


Where We Start Again

by BrynnaRaven



Category: Last of the Mohicans (1992)
Genre: Action & Romance, American Indian, BAMF Women, BAMFs, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Making Love, Marriage, Married Life, Native American Character(s), Spirit Animals, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-11-21 12:20:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 103,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11357400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrynnaRaven/pseuds/BrynnaRaven
Summary: Picking up where the 1992 film left off, Nathaniel and Cora deal with respective losses, grief, and the joys, challenges, and dangers that arise as their love develops and they move forward with a new life together with Chingachgook. Old bonds are strengthened and new ones made as they discover the true meaning of family and deep, sacrificial love. Nathaniel/Cora centered with Chingachgook and others, and some curious Uncas/Alice elements and moments. Some background filler/explanations based on the J.F. Cooper books. Comments are welcome and appreciated! As of 7/21/17, this story is now complete. Enjoy!





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after leaving the cliffs, Nathaniel, Cora, and Chingachgook stop to rest and breathe.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Last of the Mohicans, or any of the poems or song lyrics I use as headers and footers in these chapters. I make no profit from the use of any of these in word or idea, this story is a work of fiction and is purely for fun.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

_" History is like gravity_

_It holds you down away from me_

_You and me we've both got sins_

_And I don't care about where you've been_

_Don't be sad and don't explain_

_This is where we start again_

_Come to me, my sweetest friend_

_Can you feel my heart again_

_I'll take you back where you belong_

_And this will be our favorite song_

_Come to me with secrets bare_

_I'll love you more so don't be scared_

_And when we're old and near the end_

_We'll go home and start again."_

_-John Rzeznik & Gregg Wattenberg-_

_August 12, 1757_

The nightmare was over, but in some respect there would be no waking up from it. Cora Munro sat silently in the cool water of a stream pool at the foot of a small rock waterfall deep in the forest, bathing away days of dirt, grime and blood from her skin and hair. Everything felt raw right now, as if every nerve ending were sticking out of her skin while the world was trying to wrap itself around her. The numbness had slowly started to wear off once they had run fast and long enough to finally stop to eat and rest, Nathaniel and Chingachgook satisfied that they were far enough to be out of danger. Now that she was still she could think, but the cruelty of it was that she did not want to. Thinking meant the memory of Nathaniel telling her that her father was dead. Thinking meant remembering that Duncan had sacrificed his own life to make sure that she and Alice would get out alive. Thinking meant recalling the image of Alice's body plummeting off the side of the mountain after Nathaniel's brother Uncas. Her chest constricted painfully and she struggled to breathe. She plunged her head underwater, lingering a moment under the surface where her overwhelmed senses were blessedly muted, then came up with a sob, her tears mingling with the water dripping down her face.

She could not fathom how to approach these losses, or if she even had room for them all right now. Her father's death grieved her deeply, but in a dull aching way. He had always been a soldier, and she had prepared herself for his death during any one of his military campaigns. Duncan she felt much the same way about, with a pang of horrible regret that he had done what he did; but his sacrifice had also left Nathaniel alive to try and help rescue Alice from the Huron. But Alice….Oh God, Alice's death flayed her to the bone with a grief she could not even begin to process. Her beautiful baby sister, her constant companion, gone in a split second of complete despair. There was no understanding why. Why had she given up just as Nathaniel and his father would have rescued her? Perhaps she had not seen. Perhaps her already stunned and battered heart had simply broken beyond repair when Magua had killed Uncas. Alice had been quiet and secretive, but Cora knew that she had fallen for him. She had seen the way they looked at each other, and knowing what had transpired between herself and Nathaniel, there was no mistaking it, especially when Uncas had struck off on his own to rescue her with no thought for his own safety. She loved him for it; for knowing what her precious sister was worth, and for giving his own life to try to preserve hers. Her heart broke for the lonely sadness in Chingachgook's eyes, and for the sadness that silently radiated from Nathaniel, for they had both lost their only beloved sibling.

Cora climbed out of the pool and dried herself as best she could with her ruined petticoat. She donned only her shift and skirt over her stockings, leaving the damp petticoat off to dry before she put it back on, and tied her stays over the shift, thankful for the front ties that made it easy to put on. She had cut the sleeves of her shift off at the elbow, as the left one was shredded and streaked with Nathaniel's blood. She surveyed her attire with the thought that if her clothes were filthy and ruined, at least she felt clean under them. When she was done, she walked over to where Nathaniel sat resting against a tree with his long rifle next to him, facing away from the stream to give her privacy. He had been unwilling to leave her there alone, and she had not really wanted him too far away herself. He stood when he heard her approaching and reached out to her, his hand slipping around the back of her neck, looking with concern at the rope burns that showed more around her throat and wrists now that she was clean. He pulled her to him and wrapped his other arm around her. She sighed and relaxed into him for a time, just absorbing his strength.

"Why don't you get cleaned up now, and then I can tend to those wounds," she said, still resting against him.

He kissed the top of her head and let go of her. "All right. Will you wait here?"

"I will." She nodded and brushed a kiss over the corner of his lips.

He picked up the rifle and headed down to the stream, and Cora sat where he had waited for her.

Nathaniel undressed by the stream and plunged into the shallow pool, coming up by the fall of water and letting it run over his face and hair to wash away the blood, sweat and dirt. It felt good to him; he could only imagine how much better Cora must feel, at least physically. He felt his heart constrict at the thought of her grief. He had heard her crying quietly as she bathed, and he knew things were catching up to her as they were to him. Uncas had been a warrior, and had died fighting. It was to be expected of a warrior, but it was also his brother whom he loved fiercely and had spent nearly every day of his life with. Nathaniel felt a yawning emptiness at the loss of him, and there was no way to fill it. He had felt something similar when Wah-ta-wah had died, Uncas' mother and the only mother Nathaniel had ever known, but he had been just a boy then. As a man now, there was an acute awareness of the loss and the gaping maw that accompanied it. His father now knew this twice over, and Cora had lost her father, her friend, and her sister in the space of a day. There was little to do to quell the pain of such things when it came; it simply had to be felt, no matter how uninvited it was. They would walk this path together now.

A short while later, he dressed and quietly summoned her, and she went to the bank of the stream where he waited. He had washed his bloodstained buckskin shirt as best he could and it lay on the ground beside where he sat, leaving him in just his breechclout and buckskin leggings. His long dark hair hung loose over his shoulders, curling from being wet. Cora knelt beside Nathaniel and opened the small bag of medical supplies she had hurriedly packed and taken with her when they had left William Henry after the surrender. Thankfully it had not been discovered by their Huron captors, being hidden deep in her skirt pocket. She moved behind him and gently placed her hands on his head, tilting it forward. She parted his hair with her fingers at the back on the right side, where a Huron warrior had struck him with a war club when he'd entered their camp to try to rescue her, Alice and Duncan. Now that he had washed away all the dried blood, she could assess the damage. It had been a hard hit, and her stomach had knotted with fear when she'd seen him go down, but as was his stubborn nature, he'd gotten right back up again, bleeding down his back and determined in his mission. She could see now that the wound itself was not too large and was already beginning to close, but the area around it was swollen and purple with bruising. She gently palpated to assess for any detectable fracture, and he grunted in discomfort.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I'm just making sure he didn't break your skull. The wound is not large and doesn't need to be sutured, but I'd like to clean it a little better with some grain alcohol to make sure it doesn't fester. It will not feel pleasant, so I apologize in advance."

"It's all right, do what must be done."

Cora took a clean cloth and a small bottle from the leather bag and began to carefully irrigate the wound, dabbing the excess liquid with the cloth. At the first contact, he flinched and hissed audibly at the sting. When she was finished, she let his hair fall back. "You'll need to keep it clean while it heals. I can help." She moved around in front of him with the medical bag. "Now let me see that cut on your chest." She motioned toward his left pectoral under one of the bird tattoos, where another Huron had slashed him with a knife before the blow to the head. He sat up straight and she knelt in front of him to examine the wound. "This one is deep. It's been less than a full day, so it can still be sutured once it's cleaned."

He nodded in silent assent. She irrigated it as she had done the other wound, and this time being prepared, he was still. She then threaded the suture needle with gut after wiping it down with the alcohol-soaked cloth, and began to work methodically at sewing him up. He winced at the first pull of the needle as she approximated the edges of the wound with her other hand and stabilized the surrounding flesh. It was not comfortable by any means, but he distracted himself by watching her nimble fingers as she stitched a perfect, even row, her brow furrowed with concentration and her eyes glowing deep amber in the sunlight filtering through the trees. Her dark hair caught the light, shot through with streaks of russet in its waves as it dried from her bath. Recalling the memory of her in the surgery at the fort, and now tending to him, he liked watching her work. She had a confident air and seemed more comfortable than he'd ever seen her, and a loving warmth suffused him as he appreciated how beautiful she was to him and how grateful he was that she was safe with him now.

Cora tied off the last stitch and cut the suture tail, placing the needle back into the kit. After dabbing away the small amount of blood from the stitching, she cut a length of bandage and folded a pad to place over the sutures, then wrapped the remaining length around his chest and shoulder to hold it in place. Touching him so, she was acutely aware of his heat so close to her, and the expanse of exposed flesh without his shirt. He was long and lean, hard planes of muscle rippling beneath his tanned skin, and combined with his rugged features, his mesmerizing eyes, and his general demeanor, she found him quite breathtaking as a whole. She placed the palm of her hand over his heart beside the sutured and dressed cut, feeling his pulse there and looking at the vivid reminder that he had walked into that camp and recklessly tried to give his life for hers. He had not deserted them; he had found her as he had promised he would in the cave under Glens Falls. Had Duncan not purposely mistranslated in order to give himself up instead, Nathaniel would have been burned in her place, and he had offered himself to that horrifying fate without a second thought. Did he love her so much that he would die for her? Her heart wrenched. Duncan had done the same, realizing that the best chance for her and Alice was to leave Nathaniel alive. She was bereaved for that, and grateful to him, not just for his terrible sacrifice, but also selfishly because she so loved this man upon whose heart her hand rested, and she did not think she could have borne to lose both him and Alice. He was her world now. Everything had changed, her old life was gone, and she would begin again with him. He had asked her to stay with him and be his wife, and she had said yes. She raised her head at last, finding him gazing at her intently, his eyes a pale blue-green in the light. He was looking at her the way he had in the surgery that night at the fort, as if she were the only thing in the entire world. A flush crept up her cheeks as her pulse began to thrum. They had not been alone together since he'd been in the stockade at the fort, and she had not felt this particular sensation coursing through her since the night before that, when he had kissed her up on the bastion. It felt like a lifetime ago. Feeling suddenly impetuous, she tilted her head slightly, her eyes remaining locked with his.

"What are you looking at, sir?" She whispered.

A flash rippled across his eyes like a stone thrown into still water.

"I'm looking at you, miss." He said softly, his heart slamming into his chest, feeling her hand tremble there, watching her cheeks flush pink and her breathing grow quick and shallow. The air fairly crackled between them.

With a sudden explosion of movement they crashed together, their mouths melding in a desperate, merciless, life-affirming kiss, tongues tangling wildly. His hands dug into her hair, holding her in place as her arms came around him and held on for dear life, her fingers flexing against his strong shoulders. She moaned softly, holding him close as she came forward on her knees and sank onto him, straddling his lap, their bodies pressed together intimately. He wrapped one arm diagonally across her back, and the other hand pushed beneath the hem of her skirt, caressing up her leg, fingers wrapping around top while his thumb stroked the soft, sensitive skin on her bare inner thigh below the hem of her shift. Heat flooding through her, she broke away with a gasp, sliding her hands down his smooth, muscular back, up his chest and into his hair, pushing it off his neck. Cradling his head, she nuzzled the underside of his jaw with her lips, kissing and nipping her way down, and flicked her tongue over the hollow of his throat.

Nathaniel groaned and buried his face against her hair, at war with the feral beast inside him that wanted to lay her down right here and now and claim her. _MINE_! It roared. He had fought hell and fury for her, and he had won. She was his and he was hopelessly hers. His hand left her thigh and moved up to her bodice, his fingers tugging at the ties that held the front closed. Her lips sought his and he met them ferociously. She opened to him, meeting each thrust of his tongue, both of them pouring their chaotic emotions into the kiss. He released the last tie and her stays fell open, leaving nothing between them but the thin linen of her shift. His hand splayed on her ribs, feeling the warmth of her, and then slid up to cup the soft swell of her breast. Cora gasped at the contact, breaking the kiss but staying close to him, her eyes blazing and fixed on his, her cheeks flushed with desire as her hands twined in his hair and cupped his jaw. His thumb stroked across her hardened nipple through the thin fabric, and she felt an intense bolt of longing strike her to the very core, its aching fire pooling at the juncture of her thighs. She wanted him there. Arching into his palm, she rocked her hips over his, a low cry coming from her lips at the feel of him hard and pressed against her as he flexed in return. He made a sound deep in his throat and took her mouth again, half wanting to let the roaring beast sweep all reason aside, and half trying to remind himself that she was not yet his wife before lust won out. They were too close to a point of no return, too close to giving in to this welcome distraction from the events of the last several days, and despite what his baser desires tried to dictate, he did not want the first time he made love to her to be here, hurried and desperate. He wanted to take his time with her somewhere soft and worship her, drawing his name from her lips as many times as he could. His hand on her breast shifted upward and pressed flat over her wildly beating heart as he held her tight with his other arm and leaned his forehead to hers, their breath mingling.

"I love you," he whispered.

Cora's breath caught, and a single tear coursed down her cheek. He kissed it away, and a sob tore from her throat as the floodgate opened and all the fear and horror and grief came spilling from her eyes. Nathaniel pulled her to him and held her tight on his lap as she curled into him and buried her face against his shoulder, sobs racking her body, keening sounds breaking from her as she mourned for everything that had been lost. Her father. Her friend. Her sister. Her entire existence to this point. Everything had been torn apart and burned to the ground, and she had been left standing in the ashes to try and put a life back together, and she didn't know how yet. Knowing there was nothing else he could do, he just held her in his arms and rocked her and let her cry, murmuring to her gently as his heart broke for her and broke for his own loss, and he cried his own tears with her.

After a time she grew quiet again, her sobs growing further apart and finally ending in a sigh. She raised her head slowly and looked at him, her eyes red and her cheeks wet with tears. He raised a hand to wipe them away, and she turned her face against his palm.

"I'm sorry," she said with a sniffle.

"No. Don't you be sorry," he said gruffly. "You've every right to your sadness."

Her eyes grew soft and she touched his cheek, her thumb stroking away the wet track of a tear. "I love you so much, Nathaniel. I scarcely know how to feel about anything right now, but that is the one thing I do know. Everything else….it just feels like it has all been blown to bits lying all around me, and I haven't the faintest idea how to start picking it all up to put it back in order again. I don't really think that I can, and in some ways I don't want to, but it doesn't make the future less daunting to face. I don't know what I would do if….if I had lost you as well," she said, her voice cracking and her eyes filling with tears again.

Nathaniel kissed her lightly. "Hush now, _aholkwësit_. I'm not going anywhere. I'd give anything to make this better. But I will see you through this however I can. We will see each other through. I promise you that."

They got to their feet slowly and Cora wrapped her arms around him. "What does that mean, that word you called me?" She vaguely remembered him calling her that the night he had first kissed her as well.

"Ah. It means 'beloved one'."

"I see." She sighed, her arms tightening around him, and kissed his shoulder. "I never want to let go of you again," she whispered.

"You don't have to. This is where we will start again. So long as you meant it when you said you would marry me?" His eyes reflected uncertainty in their green depths. She could always decide to go back to her cousin in Boston, or back to England. It would be easier for her to rebuild a life that way than hacking it out on the frontier with him where everything was foreign to her. She had little enough choice in any of the recent events, and he wanted her to come to him freely of her own accord.

"I did. I will. I want _you_. I would rather be with you, here, than anywhere else. Whatever kind of life we will have, no matter how hard it might be sometimes. Having everything in the world would be nothing to me if you were not there."

He blew out a sigh and kissed her hard. "Good, because I want you too, whatever it may take, for as long as you'll stay with me. Now we ought to get back to my father, the sun'll be going down soon enough and we need to rest a while so we can continue on." He threw his shirt and her petticoat over his shoulder and picked up his rifle while she refastened her bodice. He took her hand, and together they headed back toward their stopping place where Chingachgook waited for them.

 _"_ _Give me everything mangled and bruised,_

_And I will make a light of it to make you weep,_

_And we will have rain,_

_And begin again."_

_-From 'Leavings' by Deena Metzger-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:
> 
> Thank you for reading this story! I hope to have subsequent chapters posted soon. Please bear with me, as I have several irons in the fire in real life. When I first published "Setting the World on Fire", my intent was to next write what happens to Nathaniel/Hawkeye and Cora (and Chingachgook to some degree) after where the 1992 film left off. I love these characters. Cora is precocious, independent, rebellious, and far beyond her time, and Hawkeye with his gorgeous Pennsylvania long rifle and his smart mouth had my heart from the tender age of 13 when I saw this film in theater (I like him in the books as well). They are such a wonderful match.
> 
> If you've read the script, you know that Nathaniel actually asked Cora to be his wife at the end, which was cut from the film. I wanted to run with the idea of them staying together, but there is also the issue to consider that Cora has suffered tremendous trauma and loss, not just of her entire remaining immediate family, but also of her life as she knew it before. While she as a character was always intrigued by life on the frontier and she obviously loves Nathaniel, it goes without saying that she will have some complicated emotions surrounding her circumstances, and Nathaniel and his father are also grieving the loss of Uncas. I've been through a traumatic loss and a long grief/life rebuilding process in my private life, so I'm hoping to pay appropriate homage to the reality of the situation in the context of this story. While this is primarily a romantic story (and there is some good romance!), I feel that it is important to write about how they see each other through, move forward, and cope after so much loss, especially Cora since everything she has ever known will be changing.
> 
> I have done something very different from the norm in this fandom, in following the movie script and leaving Uncas and Alice deceased. I know that this is not a popular thing to do because they are generally the favorite couple, but despite this, I have been extremely pleased to see the story is very well-received anyway. I implore you not to stop reading because of it, because I promise it doesn't stay sad. Things get really interesting later with regard to Uncas and Alice, and I hope you'll keep going past the first couple of chapters to see what happens. I am the uncommon person who loves Nathaniel and Cora. There are so few stories that focus on them, and none that are longer than a one-shot that I could find. I really wanted to give them a story that lets people get to know who they are and how they develop both as characters and as a couple making a new life together, and how Chingachgook fits into all that with them. This is a story about the journey of grief, of courage, hope, and deep sacrificial love, and how families are much more than just the people we are related to by blood. I truly hope you will stick with it and enjoy it as much as I have enjoyed writing it.
> 
> Many Thanks to MohawkWoman for being my sounding board for some of these basic story ideas.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cora and Chingachgook share comforting words, and Nathaniel, Cora, and Chingachgook make it to a safe place with some familiar friends.

**Chapter 2**

_"_ _Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine._   
_Meanwhile the world goes on._   
_Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain_   
_are moving across the landscapes,_   
_over the prairies and the deep trees,_   
_the mountains and the rivers._   
_Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,_   
_are heading home again._   
_Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,_   
_the world offers itself to your imagination,_   
_calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –_   
_over and over announcing your place_   
_in the family of things."_ _  
_ _-_ _Mary Oliver_ _-_

Cora lay awake in the dark of night beside Nathaniel, listening to the sounds of the forest around them. Nathaniel slept lightly, his breathing even and quiet. She looked up at the moonlit sky through the treetops, watching the thin clouds move apart across the heavens to unveil the stars. She remembered the story Nathaniel had told her the night they had met, about how the sun had drawn the stars from his dead mother's breast and cast them across the sky to remind him of her soul. That night he had said it was the Camerons' monument, and his birth family's. Now to her, it was also for her father, for Alice and Uncas, and for Duncan Heyward. A small, unidentifiable sound nearby had her suddenly alert and she sat up, relaxing when she realized it was only Chingachgook standing alone a little distance away. She got up carefully and approached him, taking a place beside him in silence. He turned his head and looked at her, then gazed back up to the sky, Cora following suit. A sudden break in the misty clouds revealed the full splendor of the vault of heaven, as if its steward had drawn aside a curtain to present a gift of divine beauty to those seeking its solace.

"My son has great love for you." he said.

"I do not doubt that." Cora replied softly. "I also have great love for him. He was willing…to sacrifice a great deal for me, and for my sister. You have all sacrificed so much for us. I cannot know how to thank you for all that you have done when you had no obligation to do it."

Chingachgook stood in thought for a moment before speaking again, still looking to the sky. "Once, many years ago, Wah-ta-Wah – my wife – was also taken captive by the Huron. They tried to make her the wife of one of their warriors. She was not my wife then, but I loved her, and she loved me."

Cora looked at him. "What did you do when they took her?"

"There was only one thing to do. I found her. I got her away and I took her back home to our people where she belonged. I made her my wife; she became the mother of Nathaniel when he came to us, and she gave me Uncas. She was a good wife and mother, a good woman. Smart, strong, beautiful. She gave me much joy."

"What happened to her?"

"She died of a sickness when our sons were very young. It was a sad time for us, and I miss her very much still."

Cora nodded empathetically, her eyes welling with unshed tears. "My own mother passed the same way, and I am sorry. Now you have lost your son as well, and I…I have some measure of guilt for your loss because it was for my and my sister's sake."

Chingachgook turned and looked at her, his eyes relaying deep sorrow. "You would not have been left to that fate. My sons have done the same as I did when their mother was made a captive, and I would expect no less from them. Uncas was a strong and brave warrior, and Hawkeye is yet. My heart grieves for the loss of my blood son, but I am proud that he died with courage and honor. I wish that your sister could have been saved as much as I wish Uncas could have been."

Cora looked away, tears spilling down her cheeks, and she wiped them away.

"I wish that as well. I cannot understand what she did, why she…I will never understand. I can make peace with my father's death eventually, and even perhaps Major Heyward, but I cannot find sense in the loss of Alice. I don't know if I ever will. All I can think is that she was scared and confused, and I think she must have loved your son and abandoned all hope with the loss of him. There is nothing else I can imagine except that all of it, everything just…broke her." She sighed shakily.

"That may be so. It seemed he cared much for her as well, and he could not let them take her. If that is so, perhaps they will meet now in the afterlife."

"I sincerely hope that is true. Your son was a good and brave man, and it comforts me to know that he cared so much to give up everything to save her. You have raised the best of honorable men, sir."

He cast her a sidelong glance. "Your father may not have agreed with you."

"I loved my father," she replied, "but he was not always right. He was grateful to you all for helping us, but his judgment was clouded by his sense of duty to crown law. You are right when you say that my people are a breed apart and make no sense. What we do may make sense to them in England, or even in the cities they have built in America, but it does not make sense out here among your people and the people on this frontier. Why they try to force it to I do not understand, but I will not turn a blind eye and pretend they are right to do it. This is a different world."

Chingachgook nodded thoughtfully and faced Cora, placing his hands on her shoulders with a gentle squeeze. "You are a good woman for my white son, and I see why he loves you. You are strong, sharp-witted. You speak your mind as my son does, and you are much like my wife. This is not the Yengeese life you are accustomed to, but you understand how to bend with the wind. You will learn. If you stay with him, you too will sacrifice much."

Cora gave a small, rueful smile. "The life I have left behind me held nothing for me but surrendering my own judgment and freedom to a husband I likely would not love. I was not meant for that, I know it in my bones. Here with you I have more freedom than English society or marriage ever would have allowed me, and in Hawkeye, the prospect of a husband who loves me and respects what I am as much as I do him. I cannot ask for more, sir, even if the circumstances in which I was delivered to this new life are twisted with grief. I only need time to learn how to move forward and to face the coming time without my sister, for she was all I really had in that old life."

He patted her shoulder gently and let her go with a deep sigh. "As I must face the future as the last of my people in a changing world, without the comfort of my blood son. As Hawkeye too will have to walk a path without his brother. This will be a new kind of life for all of us." He looked up again and gestured at the sky. "But they are there, after all, guiding us, reminding us that they were here for a time, and so they will not be forgotten as long as we remember them."

Cora's eyes welled up again. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it affectionately. "Thank you," she whispered, "for everything you have done, everything you have given." She kissed him on the cheek and retreated to where Nathaniel slept.

As she lay down beside him and pulled the wool blanket over herself, he turned on his side toward her and she saw that he was awake. They gazed at each other in silence for a moment before he reached out his arm and pulled her close to him, wrapping her in his steadfast warmth, and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. With a small sigh, she laid her head on his shoulder. They both drifted into sleep, and Chingachgook was soon to follow.

* * *

They rose at dawn to continue on their way. Nathaniel and Chingachgook had debated after they had left the mountain and had finally agreed that it would be best to head back to the frontier west of Albany and try to reconnect with some of the colonial militia who had farms there. With Fort William Henry taken by the French, who had by now moved on elsewhere to fight, the prospect of immediate danger from Ottawa or Huron war parties was significantly diminished, and with Magua dead and the remainder of his party moved on north, it was unlikely anyone even knew they were still alive. They traveled as quickly and quietly as they could into the afternoon, when they finally reached cleared farmland where a small house with a barn and outlying cabin could be seen at the other side, a wisp of smoke rising from the house's chimney. They made their way around the fields to approach and remain visible. As they came closer, Cora saw a light-haired, dark-eyed boy of perhaps fifteen come out the front door, holding a musket.

"Hello, Alasdair!" Nathaniel called out. "It's Nathaniel Poe and Chingachgook!"

The boy lowered the musket, relieved, and waved at them. "Praise be to God, Nathaniel Poe! Father! It's all right, you can come out!" Presently an older, sandier-haired version of the boy stepped out of the house and headed their way, smiling as he approached. He looked vaguely familiar to Cora, and after a moment she remembered seeing him just as they had arrived at the fort, and again later with Nathaniel and the militia captain in her father’s office.

"Jaysus Mary and Joseph, Nathaniel, you made it out alive!" he exclaimed with a heavy Scots brogue. The two men embraced, then the man shook Chingachgook's hand, clasping his forearm. His gaze shifted suddenly to Cora. "And who might this be?"

"Ian MacKay, Miss Cora Munro. Cora, this is my friend, Ian, and his eldest son Alasdair." Nathaniel squeezed her hand.

"Hello, Mr. MacKay, Alasdair, I'm pleased to meet you." She gave a small curtsey.

"You're one of Colonel Munro's daughters?"

"I am. Sadly my father and my sister did…not survive." Her eyes darted away.

"I am sorry, miss, truly." Cora nodded in acknowledgement. Ian looked back to Nathaniel. "There's been news up and down the frontier that William Henry fell to the French and those leavin' were attacked by the Huron. We had no idea what became of you. The French burned the fort to the ground."

"There's a bit of a story there," said Nathaniel gravely, "and there was indeed an attack. Lot of casualties. Some of us managed to escape."

"Uncas?" Ian questioned softly, noting the young man's absence.

Nathaniel gave a shake of his head, his eyes hard as flint. "No. We lost him to the Huron trying to get Cora's sister back from them. Neither survived."

Ian's face fell and his brown eyes welled. "Ah, damn it. I am so sorry, my friends. Please, come in. You look exhausted. Sarah's got bread in the oven, and Nathaniel, Jack's been holed up here the last two nights since we got back from the fort – didn't want to chance anyone comin' to look for him at his place. We sent word with Alasdair to his family so they wouldn't worry."

They followed Ian inside the house, where they met his wife Sarah, a kind, handsome woman with light brown hair and blue eyes, their younger son Aidan, and a little girl named Maggie. A baby girl of perhaps five months slept in a cloth wrap on Sarah's front while she kneaded bread dough. A blond-haired, blue eyed man seated at the wooden table stood, greeting Nathaniel and Chingachgook. Cora had seen him in her father's office at the fort as well, and recognized him as the captain of the colonial militia. He turned to her and clasped her hand in his.

"Miss Munro. I'm Jack Winthrop. My sincerest condolences for your father and sister."

"Thank you, sir," She replied. Jack smiled kindly at her and turned back to Nathaniel as the men sat down at the table, making inquiries about the events of the past days.

Sarah took one loaf of bread from the oven and replaced it with a second, then turned her attention to Cora with a gentle smile. "You've been through a fair bit, Miss Munro, and your clothes are worse for the wear. Come with me." She gestured for Cora to follow her into another room, where she and Ian slept. Cora sat down on the edge of the mattress while Sarah unwrapped the baby from her and placed her gently in a wooden cradle. "There you are, wee Aileen," she crooned. She went to a small wooden dresser and opened a drawer, pulling some items out. "I don't have much in the way of clothes, and they might be a bit big on you, but what I've got will serve you so we can wash and mend what's salvageable of yours in the morning." She held out a bundle which Cora took, containing a blue flannel nightgown, woolen stockings, a plain linen shift, and a utilitarian gray petticoat and short gown.

"Thank you, Mrs. MacKay, this is very kind, and I will very much appreciate the use of these until I can deal with mine. And please, you must call me Cora."

"Only if you call me Sarah," she smiled, sitting beside Cora. "I'm to understand you've lost your father and sister?"

"Yes." Cora nodded, and her eyes glittered with tears. "And a family friend who was a soldier."

Sarah shook her head grimly. "Lost my own father at Culloden Field twelve years ago, and my brother too. Ian and I came here when the English cleared the highlands. Alasdair was just a wee thing then. I can't imagine what you've seen in these past few days, bein' right in the thick of it as you were."

"My father was killed by a Huron named Magua in the massacre as we left Fort William Henry, the same who instigated an attack on us as we traveled to the fort on the George Road a few days before. We had no idea how dire the situation was at the fort, or we would never have gone. Nathaniel and his father and brother saved us on the George Road first, and during the massacre managed to get myself and my sister to safety. Our friend was not far behind us, but the Huron found us soon enough. They took us to a Huron village. Their elder sent my sister with this Magua. I was to be…burned alive." Her voice shook as she spoke.

"Where were Nathaniel and his family then? They weren't with you?"

"They had to leave us at Glens Falls, there was no gunpowder and he feared everyone would be killed if the Huron found them with us. I told him to go, he promised they would find us and they did. He came alone to speak to the elder and tried to save us. He…he told them to let me go and take him."

Sarah made a hissing sound. "Sure and that man is a brave and selfless fool as always, God love him!"

"Our soldier friend, Duncan, he was translating for him, and somehow he decided to tell them to take him instead. I suppose he knew Alice and I would never survive at all without Nathaniel alive, so…they agreed, and before I knew it they had let me go and taken him away. He knew what he was doing, he was hollering at us to get out, and we had to…to leave him. Nathaniel, he…took care of it before it was too bad for Duncan." Tears streaked down her face.

Sarah Took Cora's hands in hers and squeezed. "And your sister?" she asked quietly.

"Magua took her with his war party as we left the camp. Uncas went ahead after them to get her back, and we followed. As we caught up, Uncas was fighting him. He fought so hard, but…" she shook her head. "He killed him and pushed him off the side of the mountain. After that I do not know what happened to Alice. We were right there, she was about be rescued, but I don't know, she…she just…leapt off the mountain after Uncas. I don't understand it. Chingachgook killed Magua, but it won't bring them back," she sobbed.

Sarah had a hand clapped over her mouth and tears in her eyes. "Lord above have mercy, it's more than anyone could bear!" She exclaimed. "I am so very sorry for you, my dear girl. You've lost everything."

"Not everything. There is still Nathaniel. Some of that life I don't mind losing. But I mind losing Alice and my father very much, and though I was angry at Duncan for other things at the time, I never would have wished that on him."

"Of course not!" Sarah hugged her. "I cannot imagine what you must feel right now, or them two out there losing Uncas like that. Thank God the three of you at least were spared. Thank God for Nathaniel coming after you like that!"

"I am so grateful to him, to all three of them. Nathaniel is a Godsend. Truly. I would be lost without him." Cora wiped her wet face with her shift sleeve.

Sarah gave her a thoughtful look but said nothing, instead rising and taking Cora's hand. "Come now, let's check that bread and get supper on the table. You must all be fair starved by now."

* * *

After a supper of rabbit stew, squash, and fresh bread, which was incredible to Cora after so many days of not eating enough, she helped tidy up while Sarah nursed the baby and Jack and the other men talked more.

"Jack, I'm thinking it's safe for you to get back to your family in the morning." Nathaniel said. "What British are left from William Henry are likely now at Fort Edward, and it's anyone's guess how many even know you all lit out, dire as the situation was at the time."

"You might be right, and I don't want to keep hiding here like a bloody poltroon. Munro knew, as did his officers I'm sure. No way of knowing how many survived. Any records he kept were likely burned or lost, but who knows. Lucky for your neck they probably think you're dead. God willing, nobody gives us a second thought now." Jack replied.

Cora turned to him. "General Webb made you a promise, Mr. Winthrop, and my father did not honor it. If there is any trouble for you, I have no qualms about speaking on your behalf, as I did for Nathaniel when he had him arrested for sedition. Though I believe after the attack on those leaving the fort, there would no longer be any doubt that you should have been released to see to your homes. There had certainly better not be."

Jack's eyes widened, his mug paused halfway to his lips. Nathaniel stared at her, his expression unreadable, and cocked a brow.

"What?" Cora huffed, staring back at him. "He was going to hang you, and he refused to listen to reason. I heard the whole thing on my way to the surgery, as well as Duncan lying to him about what happened to the Camerons. I loved my father, and Duncan was my friend, but I make no excuses for such behavior."

Jack gave a low whistle and clapped Nathaniel on the shoulder. "Well, my friend, you were certainly right when you said you had a reason to stay and not come with us, and I see it's more of a reason than she's better looking than me!"

Nathaniel's eyes softened as they fell on Cora. "I'd make the same decision again."

Ian cleared his throat. "So Nathaniel, Chingachgook, what are your plans?"

"Not sure yet," Chingachgook replied. "We'd planned to winter with the Delaware and perhaps head to Cantuckee in the spring, but I don't know what we will do now."

"Cora will have some business to settle with her father's passing, as she's the only remaining direct kin." Nathaniel got up and moved to her side to take her hand. "So there's that to discuss further. And then, too, there's the matter that she might have agreed to be my wife…"

Sarah, who had been quiet up to now, gasped and stood from her chair, holding baby Aileen, looking incredulously from Nathaniel to Cora. "Truly, Nathaniel? You're to be married?"

"Yes," Cora answered softly, her eyes shining as she gazed lovingly at Nathaniel. The kitchen erupted with exclamations and congratulations.

"So," Jack said with a grin, "La Longue Carabine has finally met his match! I never thought I'd see the day you'd settle down, my friend!"

"So shines a light in the dark." Sarah smiled softly. "Will you stay here with us as our guests? Just until you have time to make decisions about the future and marry?" She looked to Ian, and he nodded in accord.

"We'd certainly be happy to have you here. We've got the cabin, Alasdair's been sleeping there time to time, and Jack, but now that he'll be able to return home you're welcome to stay as long as you like. I could use the extra help around here if you're willing."

Nathaniel looked to Cora, who readily agreed. He and Chingachgook conferred quietly in Mohican for a few moments, then Chingachgook nodded and spoke.

"Your hospitality is generous, and we are grateful. We will stay here, it will be good to be among friends. It will be good for us to be still for a time."

* * *

Sometime during the night, Nathaniel woke with a start, a sheen of sweat on his face. He had been dreaming of Uncas. Of running. Of panic. Of being too late. He blew out a shaky breath and sat up, driving his hands through his hair. His father still slept a few feet away; they had taken to the cabin floor and given Cora the bed. He glanced over and saw it was empty, the sheet rumpled at the foot and the wool blanket missing. He got up and slipped on his shirt, stepping quietly out the door into the moonlight. Cora stood a little distance away gazing up at the sky, barefoot in the grass in her borrowed nightgown with the blanket from the bed wrapped around her. He approached with enough sound to let her know he was there, stopping behind her to slide his arms around her and pull her back against his chest.

"You couldn't sleep either?" she whispered, leaning her head back onto his shoulder.

He placed a soft kiss on her neck where her hair fell aside. "Mmm. I was, but…dreams." She turned her face toward him and gently nuzzled beneath his jaw in a gesture of comfort. He drew in a deep breath and let her warm presence calm the tremble within him. "I miss him."

"I know. I miss Alice too." She looked back up to the heavens. "I think often of that night in the glade when you told me about the stars. It comforts me to think of it as their monument, scattered across the sky in points of light to remind us of their souls." His arms tightened around her, and he nodded his head as he pressed his face into her hair, finding he could not bear to speak while he let his sadness wash over him as it needed to. She seemed to understand, one hand wrapping over his, the other stroking his arm, as they stood in silent solidarity together for long moments as it passed.

"Did you really try to talk your father into releasing me?" he murmured against her ear.

"It wasn't so much talking as fighting, but yes, of course I did. How could I not?"

"I'm sorry you fought. Obviously it did no good."

"No, he wouldn't release you on principle. And Duncan…Oh, I was so angry at him for lying, and then he had the audacity to suggest that you sent me to beg, and said I was only doing so because I was infatuated with you. As if the fate of these people mattered not at all and I was operating at the whim of feminine hysteria. I wanted to throttle him. He was only angry because I told him I wouldn't marry him."

Nathaniel jerked his head down to look at her. "Come again?" He raised a brow. "Marry him?"

"He asked. I didn't love him, he was my friend and I felt nothing beyond that. I had told him I would consider it to be kind, but after I heard him lie to my father about what happened to the Camerons, I refused altogether. I could never do it, especially not then when there was you."

"Well, that certainly explains a great deal," Nathaniel said gruffly. He turned her to face him, keeping one arm around her and brushing her hair back from her face with the other hand. "You didn't have to fight with your father over me. I never would have asked it of you."

"I know, and I made my own choices. I think he suspected how I felt about you, though he never said it outright. Under different circumstances he might have even liked you, but he was so deeply entrenched in his sense of military duty, and was so desperate when no reinforcements were coming that he could not see past it to the welfare of the militia. I told him that if he had so little regard for these people, then the sooner the French blew the English out of America, the better it would be for them, and he could count me guilty of sedition too for saying so. I had no idea then…if I had known what was to come I would not have let that be our last conversation. I loved him, but I felt in my heart that he was wrong, and - and I love you too, and I could not let you be hanged, not when I had only just found you," she finished with a tearful whisper.

Nathaniel hugged her close, hurting for all the conflicted emotions he knew she must feel. "I am sorry, _ndah_. I wish this had not been so difficult for you."

"No matter what happened, I would have ended up losing it all anyway. If not for you, we would have all been dead before we even reached the fort. If you had left with Jack and the others, I would have lost you then and never seen you again, and we would have been killed in the massacre. If Webb had sent reinforcements, my father would have hung you and I would have never forgiven him. If Duncan hadn't traded places with you, you would have died for me. My sister and your brother might still live in some scenario, but otherwise no matter how I go back over it in my mind the only conclusion I can reach is that any other way, I would have lost you along with all of them, and I could not bear that. In that I understand Alice's despair, if she loved your brother so. As it is, by the strange grace of God you are with me, and being able to love you, and be loved by you, is still a gift I never thought I would have."

He took her face in his hands and kissed her with reverent gentleness, pouring what he had no words for into the soft, slow caress of his lips against hers. Her arms lifted around him, enveloping them both in the blanket, and he could now feel the warm, lush curves of her body against his through the single layer of the nightgown she wore. He thought that he could stay that way forever, wrapped in her love, shielded from the world by it. He had never known such a thing.

"Cora," he sighed against her lips, "I ache for you, do you know that? I would have gone to the ends of the earth to bring you back to me."

She buried her face against his neck and let out a ragged breath. "I would have waited for you. You burn inside of me like those stars in the sky, and I would have waited a lifetime to feel you again."

He held her fiercely in his arms, closing his eyes and breathing her in. They stood a long time like that, shrouded in comfort together in the dark night. Eventually they returned to the cabin. Neither of them wanting to separate, he lay down with her on the bed, covering them both with the blanket. She nestled against his solid heat, her head beneath his chin, and they slept together for the last few hours before sunrise would bring a new day.

 _"_ _Cover me with kisses, dear_

_Lighten up the atmosphere_

_Keep me warm inside our bed_

_I've got dreams of you all through my head_

_Come to me, my sweetest friend_

_This is where we start again_

_Start again"_

_-John Rzeznik & Gregg Wattenburg-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTE:
> 
> Ndah means "my heart" in Mohican. Nathaniel uses this endearment for Cora interchangeably with the Delaware aholkwësit (beloved one).
> 
> Thank you to everyone who is following, reading, and leaving reviews – those are very helpful! I'm so glad to know people are enjoying this story. This chapter is sort of a gateway to the future, so it rehashes some things from the film, and a little bit of history from the books. I know some of what is going to happen from here, and some if it is still being ruminated on, but it should be an interesting ride. Personally, I'm enjoying developing Nathaniel and Cora as a couple. In the film, and in the books, he is a very forthright and blunt person, though he is almost always kind. Cora is similar – she doesn't really hold anything back. Nathaniel is also often brave to the point of recklessness. In the film he's got that blunt, tough exterior, but to me you can kind of see his soft gooey center too, especially where those he cares about are concerned, and in the way he treats Cora. The way they look at each other kind of melts your heart, and even at the worst of times he is so gentle with her, and is always touching or holding her.
> 
> It took me some time to figure out what to do with the militia characters. I wanted some of Nathaniel and Chingachgook's friends back in the picture, and I almost had them go to Jack's, but I had to think that he probably wouldn't have gone home immediately since he was the militia captain and the British army would have known where to find him, so I sent everybody to Ian. Ian was a bit part in the film, so I enjoyed creating him and his family. At that time in history, there would have been Scots immigrants scattered across American settlements – many of them would likely have been Jacobites or other highlanders who escaped or were forced to leave their homes in Scotland in the years following the battle of Culloden Field in 1745, when England launched a brutal campaign to incorporate highland culture into the rest of Great Britain and break down the clan system. That's a much longer story than I can tell here, though.
> 
> There is a challenging dynamic with Cora and her father from the film perspective (the book was vastly different there). On one hand, he's her father and he was murdered, and of course she is going to be very sad about that. On the flip side, he was also going to hang the man she fell in love with, and they fought hard about that as well as the militia/settler issue, so she was understandably pretty angry with him preceding his death. She has the same issue with Duncan, who was her good friend and then made her lose all respect for him in the time before he died (and subsequently redeemed himself). Exploring the aftermath of that is harder than I thought, so I hope I've done all right with it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to settle down at the MacKay farm. Nathaniel and Cora discuss her past, and Nathaniel and Chingachgook share their grief.

**Chapter 3**

_"_ _Those who will not slip beneath_

_the still surface on the well of grief_

_turning downward through its black water_

_to the place we cannot breathe_

_Will never know the source from which we drink,_

_the secret Water, cold and clear_

_nor find in the darkness glimmering_

_the small round coins_

_thrown by those_

_who wished for something else."_

_-David Whyte-_

_September 22, 1757_

Nathaniel raised a hand to stay Chingachgook, who crouched beside him. He stood still and silent in the cover of the trees and branches, listening to the faint snap of twigs as something large and alive moved in the forest ahead of them. Nathaniel held his breath as he watched the buck they had been stalking raise its head, chewing, its eyes alert. In a deft whisper of movement, Killdeer was at his shoulder, emitting a blinding flash with the pull of the trigger as the flint struck the frizzen and ignited the priming pan, and a sharp crack sounded as the lead ball burst forth from nearly four feet of barrel. The buck went down in the brush with a thump. Nathaniel drew in a full breath and lowered the rifle. Chingachgook stood while they said a prayer of thanks and respect together over the animal, and then he headed back to where they had tied Ian's pack mule.

They hunted as often as they could. It put meat on the MacKays' table and gave them time to spend together doing something familiar to them. Sometimes Alasdair came along when Ian could spare him, but most of the time it was just the two of them. At first their hunts had been quiet and cheerless, and Nathaniel knew that his father missed having Uncas with them as much as he did. It was starting to become more familiar without him, but there were times when he or his father would turn their head to give a signal or a whisper, having forgotten that he would not be there. Those moments were crushing for them both. Sometimes they talked about it. It was not Mohican custom to speak often of the dead, but the loss of Uncas as the last of his line left Chingachgook with a singular kind of mourning that was not only for his beloved son, in whom he had lost the hope of companionship, of blood family, of grandchildren, but also the further loss of his culture. Nathaniel wished ardently that he could do something to ease that despair, but he knew that he could not. All he could do was talk with him about it when he needed to speak, or offer a comforting gesture or simply sit in silence with him when that was better for letting the painful moments pass. Often the busy life at Ian's and the hard work of the harvest season was an adequate distraction, and enough of a change in lifestyle for them that it almost made the absence of Uncas less noticeable, but not always. Sometimes it was just a reminder that everything was different now for all of them, because of what they had lost.

There were many enjoyable things too, though. Helping their friend was rewarding, and being with the family was good for all of them. Cora had started getting up before dawn to milk cows with Aidan and gather eggs with Maggie, and she helped Sarah often with the baby, laundry, and tending the substantial vegetable plot, which she seemed to love. He knew that Sarah appreciated having her there because it lessened her exhaustive workload managing a house and four children, and they had been fast friends. Five year-old Maggie had taken to Cora like a moth to open flame, and Cora adored the little girl, never seeming to mind her endless questions and chatter while they worked together. Chingachgook enjoyed the children as well. Aidan, energetic and curious at nine, was always asking him to tell stories, and Chingachgook seemed to enjoy regaling him with hunting tales and Mohican and Lenape legends. Those were rare times when he saw the sadness leave his father's face, and he looked like the man he had been before. Alasdair was a relatively quiet young man, but he was never far from Nathaniel. He liked the boy, he was a hard worker, eager to help his father, and he was always up for a hunt. When there was time, he would often ask Nathaniel to target shoot with him, wanting to improve his aim and accuracy for hunting. The last time, Nathaniel had offered to let him try shooting Killdeer, and the boy's eyes had been as big as saucers as he handed over the legendary long rifle. A fond smile twitched on Nathaniel's lips as he remembered it. When Chingachgook returned with the mule, they busied themselves loading the carcass, and they headed back to the farm.

"No word from Boston yet?" his father inquired, speaking in their language.

"Not yet. Hopefully soon, if the letter reached them in a timely manner. Cora isn't sure what to expect. I can't imagine this is anything normal where she comes from. She doesn't say much, but I wonder if she worries about what they'll think."

Nathaniel was speaking of Cora's second cousin Eugenie Barrington, who lived in Boston with her husband Giles, a solicitor who handled legal and financial affairs for Cora's father – and would therefore know what she stood to inherit, if anything. Eugenie was Edmund Munro's first cousin, and the only other family member present in the colonies. They had been close, and Cora and Alice had lived with her in Boston for some time after they had come overseas from Portman Square in London, when Munro had been assigned to the colonies. Not long after arriving at Ian's, Nathaniel, Chingachgook, and Cora had gone to Albany for business and supplies. Cora had met privately with an officer at the British Army headquarters regarding her father's death, and to inform them of what had become of Major Heyward. Befitting her father's rank, the man had informed her, Colonel Munro's body had been brought back to Albany with the other officers and had been buried in the churchyard at St. Peter's there just a few days prior, with the assumption that both of his daughters were dead. They had gone to the church afterward and spoken to the minister, who showed them to the gravesite. Nathaniel and his father had stood with her as she knelt there and wept bitterly, and she had cried herself to sleep in his arms that night.

Before they had left to return to the farm, she had drafted and posted a letter to her cousin informing her of recent events and of her impending marriage, asking Eugenie to post a response in care of the Patroon's house where she and Alice had stayed before their journey to William Henry. Nathaniel and Cora had agreed to hold off on a wedding for the time being, to allow not only time for them to simply adjust to all the changes, but also to allow the opportunity for Eugenie to respond. If no letter arrived, they would marry after the harvest season was over. They had not come to a decision about what exactly to do regarding a wedding in any case, since it was proving to be somewhat complicated for several reasons.

"She wants to be with you," Chingachgook said, "and that is what matters. What the Yengeese think will not change her mind, and certainly not yours."

"That's true enough. We'll see what happens."

As they came to the house, Alasdair met them to help with the buck, Ian having gone into Albany early that morning. Nathaniel turned his attention to the task at hand, letting his anxious thoughts fade for the time being.

* * *

The late afternoon sun filtered through the trees to the west, casting golden light over the open farm land. Cora glanced outside and saw Nathaniel sit down on the wooden steps in back of the house drying his face and arms, having washed up after taking care of the buck carcass with his father and Alasdair. Part of it was now cooking over the kitchen fire, the smells of supper wafting through the open window frame. She stepped out the back door to sit beside him. His face broke into a wide smile when she approached, and her heartbeat skittered. She adored the way he smiled, the way his eyes lit up and the lines at the corners creased. It was so beautiful and genuine, and she had not seen it often in the beginning. Now that life was starting to settle, he seemed to be finding a little more happiness, as was she – she had slowly started to feel like she could breathe again. She smiled back and leaned over to kiss him.

"Mmmmm. You smell delicious," he murmured, nuzzling her neck.

She laughed softly. "The Winthrops traded apples for squash, so Sarah and I made a pie. Maggie helped, of course."

"She is so smitten with you," he chuckled, watching Cora rest her head on her arms atop her bent knees. Her feet poked out from under the blue calico skirt of the work dress she had made when they'd bought the cotton fabric on that first trip to Albany last month. She was wearing the moccasins Chingachgook had taught her to make from the skin of one of the deer they had brought home. Her dark hair was braided down her back, wisps of it escaping and curling around her face. She turned her head on her arms and gazed at him, her full lips curved in a tiny smile and her big brown eyes soft with contentment. He had been living for the time he might see her like this, just one glimpse of her without the grief that had shrouded them all so heavily those first weeks, and seeing it now took his breath away for a moment.

"I like her very much too. She reminds me of Alice when she was that age. She never tired of following me everywhere, even when I got her into trouble."

"Uncas was the same when we were boys. But then, once our mother died, it was mostly just the three of us anyway, excepting the times we spent with the Delaware."

"It was like that for myself and Alice too. My father was gone so often, and both of our mothers had died, so we spent almost all of our time together."

"You and Alice didn't have the same mother?"

She shook her head. "No. My father was assigned to the island colony of Barbados when he met my mother – that is where I was born. Her name was Eveline. She was the daughter of an associate of his, and their marriage caused quite the nasty stir with his family."

Nathaniel looked puzzled. "Why is that?"

"She was mixed race. Her grandmother was the daughter of a British Lord and a Barbadian housemaid with whom he had an affair. My father's very proper, titled family was scandalized when he married my mother, even though she came from a perfectly respectable family. They were not kind to her when he brought us back to his family home at Auchinbowie, especially because he had been expected to marry someone else before his assignment."

"What about you?" His pale eyes grew ominous at the thought of her being mistreated because of her family's prejudice.

She shrugged. "They were indifferent to me for the most part. I didn't care, I found them all stuffy and terribly boring anyway. The only one who ever paid any attention to me other than making sure I was brought up properly was Cousin Eugenie. She had her reservations about the marriage, but she loved my father, and she liked my mother very much despite what they all viewed as a highly inappropriate match. My father never cared what they thought. When he was at home, he doted on her, and always said she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen."

Nathaniel brushed a wisp of hair from her cheek, now seeing a little of where Cora must have gotten her apparent lack of reverence for conventional British propriety. She and her father were more alike than she realized. "Having met your father, I would guess you favor your mother. He certainly wasn't wrong about that. How did she pass away?"

"The climate in Scotland never agreed with her, and she missed her home. She became sick more and more often, and she never recovered the last time. She died when I was four. At his family's urging, my father remarried six months later to Alice Graham, the woman he was supposed to wed before he went to Barbados. She had never married because she still loved him. She was good to me and she was a kind person, very quiet and shy and gentle like my sister was, but she wasn't around for very long. She died giving birth to Alice, who my father named for her. I don't think he ever recovered well from losing either of them so close together."

"That's a shame. Your sister seemed very attached to your father."

"She was. To her, he could do no wrong, and she tried so hard to always be the perfect lady. Naturally to my father's family, the sun rose and set on her, but them mostly ignoring me meant I got away with far more mischief." The corner of her mouth twitched up in amusement. "Once we were older, we moved to London and my father often took us on campaigns with him. He didn't want to leave us at home, and I suspect he felt less lonely having us there as well."

"Is that how you started working as a nurse?"

She nodded. "Yes. I was fourteen when I met Mr. Phelps. I wanted to do something, I was bored, and he started having me stock bandages and other supplies. When he realized that I wasn't squeamish about injuries, he started teaching me how to care for the wounded. I could already sew well, being forced to learn ladylike tasks, so suturing wounds came naturally, and I assisted him with many other things as well. It was better than sitting around worrying or being afraid for my father, and at least I could do something to help. Alice never took to injury care as I did, but she was always helpful with supplies, and she was wonderful with the sick men. She liked to read to them."

"Your family must have been appalled. What do you think your cousin will say about you choosing a life here?"

"Oh, they were horrified. I thought Aunt Margarat would die of apoplexy when she found me reading the medical textbooks Mr. Phelps had lent me. As for Eugenie, I don't know. My choice is my own regardless, and there is no way to know what she will say. Eugenie is lovely, but she is still a society woman and very conventional. When Duncan showed interest in me, she pushed me hard to accept his attentions. She thought with my…heritage, it might be the best offer of marriage I would ever get. Duncan was a friend, and nice enough, but he was so rigid in his ideas of how things should be just so, and I did not want to live my life as his pretty flower. I didn't care for society's idea of marriage, it is stiff and terribly depressing in most cases. I knew that if I married, I would lose my choices, my freedom, to someone who would want nothing other than a brood mare with a dowry and no opinions. There would be no more traveling with my father, no more working with Mr. Phelps. I didn't want anyone to have that much power over me."

Nathaniel could now understand very well why she had said there was nothing for her back in England. After the kind of life she'd been living, he could not imagine her going back to anything that dismal, let alone having her relatives look down their noses at her and try to stuff her into a box she would never fit into. Instead, here she was, with him, and he felt a sense of amazement all over again at her strength and adaptability. Every time she revealed another piece of herself to him, he loved her even more. He himself had never quite properly fit into either the white world or the world of his father's people, and he had somehow been given the grace to find this captivating, spirited woman who had also never really matched the world she had been raised in. She fit with _him_ , and he could not imagine ever trying to extinguish her passion. On the contrary, he wanted to fan it and see how bright she could burn. He picked up her hand in his and brought it to his lips.

"Well then, lucky for us I'm not interested in changing or controlling you, now or when you're my wife. I promise I will never want you to be anything other than what you are. You can doctor folks and have opinions to your heart's content."

"That's a fair part of why I love you. You never expected anything of me beyond what you saw. You saw _me_ , and wanted that part of me when no one else did." She leaned into him and put her arms around his neck.

"And the other part of why you love me?" his eyes grew mischievous.

"Most undoubtedly your smart mouth." she quipped.

"You only love my smart mouth because yours is equally smart." He laughed.

"Hmmm. I also love it for this." She pulled his head down and kissed him soundly, and his fingers moved around the nape of her neck and into her braided hair as he kissed her in return. Suddenly Maggie's voice at the open window startled them both.

"MAMA, they're KISSING!" she shrieked in a fit of giggles, as the guilty party sprang apart. Sarah poked her head out and shooed Maggie away. Cora patted her hair, blushing, and Nathaniel cleared his throat.

Sarah's eyes twinkled with merriment. "Supper's on, if the two of you can manage to let go of each other long enough to sit down and eat." She winked and pulled her head back into the house, and they got up to go inside and join the family at the table.

* * *

"So, have you made any decision as to what you'll be doing about a wedding when the time comes?" Sarah asked, passing the bread to Alasdair.

"Not quite," Cora replied, "if we want it to be sound and legal, of course we have to obtain a license from the clerk in Albany at a hefty fee, and get a minister. We can't publish banns because we don't have a parish to publish them in, and Nathaniel was not raised Christian."

Sarah clucked her tongue. "So complicated. Makes me glad Ian and I were married well before we got here. Does the legality matter so much to go to such trouble?"

"It depends on my inheritance I suppose, and whether there is a marriage clause. That's much of the reason why we are waiting to hear from my cousin – her husband will be able to tell me. I wouldn't care, but really any sum I stand to inherit would be helpful to add in with Nathaniel's income from trapping this year – we can make a good start that way."

"Aye, that's wise to consider. And if it doesn't matter whether the marriage is legal?"

"Then we'll marry however we can, with a handfasting, or my father can declare us married as a Mohican elder." Nathaniel answered. "As long as we're wed, how is inconsequential to us both. We'd like our friends to be there in any case."

He was interrupted by Ian coming through the back door from the barn, having just returned from Albany. He removed his hat and kissed Sarah, and Aidan and Maggie rushed at him. "Miss Cora," he said among the din, "I inquired at the Patroon's house today, and there was a letter for you." He handed her a wax-sealed envelope with a return address in Boston. Cora's fingers trembled as she opened it and read silently, finishing with a gasp of surprise.

"What is it, _ndah_?" Nathaniel asked.

"It says they are coming to Albany from Boston. A hundred and fifty miles when there's a war on, she must be mad!"

"When was it written?"

"It's dated the ninth of September, but the letter says they would be leaving on the twentieth. That's two days ago now! Traveling by coach they'll be there imminently, if they are not already."

"We'll leave first thing in the morning then."

* * *

Nathaniel came to stand beside Chingachgook outside. The last remnants of the sunset streaked orange and red across the western horizon, and the first stars winked their faraway light above.

"Will you come with us to Albany tomorrow?" Nathaniel asked.

"I will stay. This errand is for you, my son, and for Cora. I have no business with these people. If I am with you, it may make things more difficult. They will not be like her, they will not understand who we are."

Nathaniel sighed and raked a hand through his hair. "That is likely. What they think of me does not matter; I am proud to be your son, a son of the Mohican people. I only do not want to see Cora hurt."

"It will be what it is. She is strong and she stands well for herself. You cannot protect her from everything."

Nathaniel touched his shoulder. "Father, I am sorry. I know that this is not what you ever expected or wanted for yourself, for us. Not what you envisioned when you thought of my brother settling with a woman and having a family. I am sorry that I cannot be what he was to you. I feel the loss of him every day, and I wish he could be here with you to live the life you wanted for him."

Chingachgook nodded, the fatigue of his grief etched in every line of his face, his eyes blinking back tears. "I miss him terribly. When I die, my blood and the blood of the Turtle Clan in these lands will die with me, and we will be gone from this world forever. He was your brother, he was my son, he was love and light, and he was my hope that my people might still live on. That hope has gone with him, and I have lost my son who was the only living part of me. My spirit has been fractured, and there are pieces of it here that I may find again, but some of them I will not. There is a piece of it with my ancestors who have gone before me, and there is a piece with my wife and with my blood son, who I will not see again until death comes to me. His absence from us is an empty hole that cannot be filled. Some days it is so deep and the pain of it so loud inside of me that I can hardly stand to breathe. In this sadness there is no past and no future, only the time in which it happens, and I am lost while it passes."

Nathaniel pressed his lips together and swallowed the sob that threatened to rise from his throat, Chingachgook's pain mingling with his own and closing around his chest with a force that fought to steal the beating of his heart. He put his arms around his father, the man who had taken him as his own and given him a family when he was just a baby. "I feel the same," he whispered brokenly. "Sometimes I dream of him, and I hope that it's real, that I'll wake up and he will be there, but he is not, and no matter how much I love you, father, I cannot take his place in your heart. Tell me, what can I do?"

"Oh, my son," he said gently, "no, you cannot be Uncas, or take his place in my heart. You are Hawkeye, you are Nathaniel, and you have your own place there, a place that would be equally empty if I had lost you, because a piece of my spirit is also with you, my son who I chose. Your path is not your brother's. You walk your own way. I love you and I am proud of the man that you are. You will not carry my blood, but I am no less happy to see you settle with a woman who is right for you. It is not how I thought it would be, but she is good, and she loves you, and I see your mother in her. You love her, do you not?"

"More than my next breath."

"Then it is as it should be for you. Go with her, be with her, and I will be here when you return."

 _"_ _You do not have to be good._

_You do not have to walk on your knees_

_for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting._

_You only have to let the soft animal of your body_

_love what it loves."_

_-Mary Oliver-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:
> 
> If you're still with me here, thank you for reading! In this chapter, I've gone more into Cora's family history – her birth background, as well as Alice's, is straight out of the book, and I also elaborated on that based on the actual life and family of Lt. Col. Munro (whose real name was George, by the way, and he actually died of a heart attack about three months after the siege of Ft. William Henry, but we are using the film story here). Cousin Eugenie was barely mentioned in the script, when Duncan first proposed to Cora, having told her that feelings might develop over time in a loveless marriage – and I think we could all tell in the movie that didn't fly with Cora. From what I've written here now we know a little more why she marches to the beat of her own drum – which is great because I rather like her, and that's just how Nathaniel loves her, too. We will subsequently meet Eugenie and her husband, whose very pretentious full name is Mr. Giles Cuthbert Barrington III (thank you MohawkWoman for helping with the fun task of coming up with a name for him that was good and stuffy). We'll no doubt get to see some of Nathaniel's spark when he meets these people – and Cora's too.
> 
> It was nice to give these two a little happy moment together, too. Grief shifts and changes from day to day, and after six weeks I thought it was time they had a ray of sunshine. At the same time, feelings come in waves, and we see that Chingachgook is having a rough time on and off too. On one hand, he knows and believes the traditions of his people regarding death - that is, that the Mohican (or Mahican) and Lenape historically mourned their dead at the time of burial, and after that generally did not publicly mourn or speak the names of the dead to avoid bringing grief to the family - but no matter who you are, the death of someone that close to you is going to rip a hole in you that will test everything you ever thought you believed. I wanted to give him a little time with Nathaniel to talk about his feelings (I really think Nathaniel is the only person he would talk to about that), and to have a little more of an emotional connection for them, too.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cora and Nathaniel travel to Albany to meet Cora's cousin.

**Chapter 4**

_Tell me, what else should I have done?_

_Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?_

_Tell me, what is it you plan to do_

_With your one wild and precious life?_

_-Mary Oliver-_

Cora sat next to Nathaniel on the seat of Ian's wagon as they drove into Albany the next day. She glanced at him beside her, wearing a deep blue cotton shirt she had recently made for him over his usual buckskin leggings, half of his hair tied back from his face with a strip of leather. The color of the shirt made the green of his eyes look darker, almost grey, and made the tattoos on his forearms stand out beneath the loose three-quarter length sleeves. Feeling guilty for putting him in a position where he had to deal with a world he had no fondness for, she wondered nervously if it had been the right thing to contact Eugenie and Giles; perhaps it would have been easier to just disappear, to start over and be assumed dead. No, she thought. That would have been cruel, to let Eugenie think she was dead, too. No matter what happened today, they at least deserved the courtesy of knowing she was alive, and they had gone to the trouble to travel all this way from Boston just to see her. She did not know what they would think of Nathaniel, but that was inconsequential. She knew what _she_ thought of him, and that he cared little about anyone's opinion of him anyway. Nathaniel was Nathaniel, whether it pleased anyone or not, and she loved that about him.

She watched a raven land on the roadside just ahead, cocking its head as they passed to watch with one shiny black eye, the filtered sunlight glinting off the rainbow prisms of its black wing feathers. They were the last thing anyone wanted around the farm, but she couldn't help but like them after Chingachgook had told the Delaware legend of Rainbow Crow, and she never minded when they cawed at her from atop the fence around the vegetable patch. The story of Crow's courage and sacrifice to bring light and warmth to the world struck her deeply, and she had asked him to tell it to her again on several occasions so that she could remember it, which he had obliged. She enjoyed learning about his people and their traditions, and she was beginning to learn the Mohican and Delaware languages as well, with Nathaniel and his father teaching her. She wanted to be able to speak to them that way if she was to be part of their family, and if they ever spent time among the Delaware. It was slow progress, but she was beginning to catch on.

The wagon clattered over the stone bridge into Albany, and Nathaniel could sense Cora growing more uneasy as they came to the Patroon's house where they would meet Eugenie and Giles. Taking up Killdeer, he climbed down in the busy courtyard and helped her down, and she wiped her palms on her skirt as he handed the reins over to the stable boy who ran to meet them. He looked down at her. She looked beautiful to him, as she always did. She wore the gray short gown and skirt Sarah had lent her over her stays, deeming it the most appropriate thing available, and her hair was pinned up under a small linen cap at the crown of her head. He reached out and brushed his knuckles across one high cheekbone and down the smooth side of her neck, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder.

Her hand came up and grasped his. "So much has changed since I last saw them. I don't know where to begin to tell them what has happened."

"It will be all right, _aholkwësit._ Don't worry." He slipped his arm around her in a quick embrace and kissed the top of her head, and she took his arm as they headed across the courtyard to the agent's office to find out if her cousin had arrived yet. As Nathaniel reached for the door, a breathless feminine voice called out.

"Cora!" They turned to see a woman walking briskly toward them, the skirts of her green floral silk _robe a l'Anglaise_ gathered in her hand. Nathaniel assumed this must be Eugenie. She looked to be of similar age to Colonel Munro, with graying blonde hair and an average build slightly taller than Cora. The Scottish lilt of her voice, the sharp blue eyes, and aristocratic features were reminiscent of her late cousin's, but softer, and she was still an attractive woman, though in a much different way than Cora.

"Eugenie!" Cora cried, stepping forward to meet her halfway as Eugenie embraced her and kissed her cheek. "When did you arrive? I received your letter only yesterday! I trust your journey was all right?"

"We came in last night, just after dark. The trip was pleasant enough, I suppose. Oh, my dear girl, let me look at you!" She held Cora away from her. "You look healthy for all of your recent hardship, at least. We simply had to come to you when we received your letter. My God, child, you must explain to me what happened with all these battles and vicious attacks by savages, and…oh, poor Edmund and darling Alice!" her eyes filled with tears and she dabbed at them with a lace handkerchief. Cora looked slightly overwhelmed, and Nathaniel took a step forward. Eugenie caught sight of him and leaned around Cora, giving him a sweeping once-over with shrewd eyes. "Is this your…escort?"

Cora let out a small laugh. "No, Eugenie. This is Nathaniel Poe, my fiancé."

Eugenie's eyes widened, and she attempted to mask her shock by stretching out one kid-gloved hand in his direction, a forced smile pasted on her face. "Oh, yes, yes, of course. Mr. Poe. It is…lovely to meet you."

Nathaniel gave a polite nod and clasped her hand. "Likewise, Mrs. Barrington."

"Well, er….come, let us go inside. Giles will be waiting with tea, and we can talk."

She led them inside the manor house and into a parlor where there was ample seating and a wooden table where a tea tray sat. A tall, thin man several years older than Eugenie rose from one of the chairs, his powdered wig smooth and perfect. He had narrow, icy-pale blue eyes that were at least twice as calculating as Eugenie's, sharp, bony facial features, and a thin, wide mouth that looked like it might shatter his face if he smiled. He wore a charcoal-grey overcoat and breeches with a deep burgundy waistcoat.

"Giles, dear, look who I found in the courtyard!" Eugenie trilled. The sullen-looking man stepped forward. He took Cora's hand and kissed it in greeting.

"Cora. The circumstances are regrettable, but it is good to see that you, at least, are well." He straightened and looked to Nathaniel, his cool gaze taking in the very out-of-place appearance of his cousin's companion. His eyes landed on his tattooed arms, then the long rifle, and one eyebrow shot up. Nathaniel met his stare with equal coolness, and the man extended a hand.

"Giles Cuthbert Barrington, the third. And you are….?"

"Nathaniel Poe, sir." Nathaniel gave Giles' hand a firm shake. Giles cleared his throat and squinted.

"Yes….well. Mr. Poe. Cora. Please, sit." They each took a seat at the table, and Eugenie poured a cup of tea each for Cora and Nathaniel, who murmured their thanks. Nathaniel set Killdeer against the settee behind him, feeling like jumping out of his skin in this place. If this was how Cora had been brought up, it was no wonder she was ready to throw it all into the wind. _A breed apart…they make no sense._ That was for sure. All this stiff formality was completely foreign to him, and equally ridiculous compared to the open friendliness of the frontier settlers he knew. "I presume your journey was without trouble?" Giles sipped his tea.

"It was. We've had no rain in the last week, so the road was not rough." Cora replied.

"You and Mr. Poe traveled alone together, unchaperoned?" His cold eyes had a disapproving cast. Cora restrained herself from rolling her eyes and set her cup down, clasping her hands in her lap. Giles had always been quick to openly criticize. She pitied Eugenie really, married to someone so severe, having never felt what she felt for Nathaniel.

"Yes. Typically Chingachgook would have come with us, however, he thought it best to stay behind today."

"Chingach – who is that, and what on earth kind of name is that?" Eugenie interjected.

"He is Nathaniel's father, and his name is Mohican. It means "Great Serpent".

"Mohican? As in the _red men_? But…you are white, are you not?" She looked at Nathaniel curiously.

Nathaniel struggled to maintain a tolerant visage. "My parents and sisters died when I was just one or two. A pair of French trappers cared for me until Chingachgook took me to live with him and his wife. They raised me as their own, as a son of the Mohican people. My father's people are all gone from this place now. Once my mother died, my father and brother and I made our way together, hunting through the warmer seasons, and spending winters trapping and living with the Delaware. My brother and I attended a school run by a missionary when I was ten."

"I see," Giles clipped. "That explains your appearance, and lack of social grace, but at least you are somewhat educated." His expression was dour. Cora bristled defensively, and Nathaniel touched her hand beneath the table, his expression remaining impassive.

"I suppose it would, sir, but where I come from, folks are a little different." He gave a wry smile, holding back a more stinging retort for the sake of his future wife.

"Yes. Well. Moving on. There will, of course, be some legal and financial matters to discuss today," Giles began, "which we will get to in time. But there is much else we must become apprised of as well. Cora, your letter indicated quite an ordeal. What happened to you?"

Cora quietly told them the story, starting with the journey to Fort William Henry and how Nathaniel, Chingachgook, and Uncas had saved them, followed by the siege and omitting the bit about the sedition charges against Nathaniel. She then told them as delicately as possible about the massacre after the surrender and her father's death, their escape, and the events that had followed leading up to the deaths of Duncan, Uncas, and Alice. Finished, Cora wiped away her quiet tears as Eugenie sobbed into her handkerchief. Giles looked quite taken aback.

"It's all so dreadful!" Eugenie exclaimed through her tears. "Edmund is bad enough, but then Major Heyward and….and Alice. Oh, my poor, sweet, gentle Alice, and not even a Christian burial for them! How in the world have you borne such a thing?!" She began to sob again.

Giles patted her shoulder in a rare show of sympathy. "There, there, dear. Do try to calm yourself." She blew her nose delicately and dabbed her cheeks.

"Things have been…difficult, but are getting better. The Lieutenant I spoke with said they brought Papa back here. He was buried in the churchyard at St. Peter's. Alice, we…had to do what we could. She is in the place where she died, buried with Nathaniel's brother Uncas." Eugenie broke into another wave of sobs. Nathaniel kept Cora's hand in his under the table.

Giles spoke gravely. "Cora, dear, I am terribly sorry for all that you have endured. These events are…horrific. Mr. Poe, we are grateful to you and your family for doing what you could, and you have my regrets that your brother was also a casualty in this dreadful affair." Nathaniel nodded in acknowledgement.

Eugenie, having composed herself, took Cora's hand in hers with a sniffle. "I've brought you a trunk from the house, dear. Your clothes and some other things that you left when you came here to meet Eddie. Some things of Alice's, and Eddie's too. I thought it might be good to have them now, since everything you brought with you here must have been lost."

"Yes, we lost all of our belongings in the attack on the George Road. Thank you, Eugenie, that is very kind." Cora gave her a wavering smile, tears in her eyes.

After a brief, awkward silence, Giles rifled a sheaf of papers before him on the table and cleared his throat, donning a pair of spectacles that, if possible, made him look even more churlish and disapproving when he glanced over the rims.

"Cora, as you know, your father entrusted his personal matters to me as his solicitor, and in doing so I also maintain charge over matters of his estate in the event of his…er…untimely demise, including the dowries and inheritance of both yourself and Alice. Since Alice is also…no longer with us…anything that would have passed to her will now pass to you."

Cora pressed her fingers over her mouth and nodded, her grip on Nathaniel's hand like an iron trap. He knew she despised every minute of this, because anything she stood to gain today was really nothing but a reminder of what she had lost, which was so much more valuable to her than anything material. He let her hold his hand tightly while they listened to Giles outline the particulars of what Munro had left to his daughters. The family estate at Auchinbowie had passed to his older brother Alexander, so that was not a factor. The house in Portman Square was Cora's. Any funds Munro had entrusted to Giles from his own holdings and salary, which was a tidy sum, plus what was dowered to her and to Alice.

"Now," Giles continued, "due to the unpredictable nature of your father's military career, he requested that no marriage clause be attached to the inheritance, as he wanted you to inherit and be able to care for yourself independently if he happened to die before you or Alice were wed. However, at the time of your marriage, according to law, your inheritance of course becomes the property of your husband." He gave Nathaniel a pointed look.

"Yes, I understand." Cora said. Nathaniel said nothing, and she could not fathom what he might be thinking. She was grateful to her father for having the foresight to make sure she would be taken care of with or without marriage, but all of this was somewhat overwhelming to her emotionally, and left her with an uncomfortable spreading feeling in her chest.

Giles cleared his throat. "So there is the matter of your…impending marriage to Mr. Poe. What are your plans?"

Cora glanced at Nathaniel. "Well, we haven't exactly worked that out just yet. We would like to marry soon, but we were waiting for a response from you before we made any final decisions. Since I do not have a home parish and Nathaniel has none to speak of, a legal marriage would require obtaining a license from the county clerk, which is rather expensive. We had thought if that was not possible, we could simply have a handfasting by a blacksmith, or something similar – most of the settlers on the frontier do that because there is no minister available or the license is too expensive, and they are still considered married, or as good as."

Eugenie gasped. "Cora, you cannot be serious! You must be married properly! You are a Munro, and a Christian lady, not some…common settler! What on earth has come over you?"

"Well I suppose losing her entire family and then being graciously offered a hearth and home with a bunch of 'common settlers' might have a negative influence on her, ma'am. The frontier life has done away with all her delicate sensibilities." Nathaniel said dryly.

Eugenie's eyes narrowed at him and focused back on her cousin. "Cora. My dear. Have you really thought this through? You've been through so much, and I understand the deep gratitude you must feel to Mr. Poe and his…father, but…do you really think that means you must marry him? This is all so hasty. I don't understand what has happened to you. Before, you seemed open to considering Major Heyward, and I'm sure that in time you might…"

"Stop," Cora said. "Before, I felt I had no choice but to say I would consider Duncan, even though what I really wanted was to maintain my independence. You all seemed to think that I should take what I could get given my mother's bloodlines, and the best thing about it was that I had the very real prospect of happily living out my life in spinsterhood doing what made me happy and not living by another's leave. I did not want to consider Duncan because I did not love him, you know that. You _don't_ understand what has happened to me. My entire life has changed, and for much of it I am not sorry. There is no going back to the way things were before for me. This frontier…it is in my blood now. It is my home now. Nathaniel's father's people will become my people, those 'common settlers' are like family to me, and it is the first place I have ever felt I truly _belonged_. I don't want to marry Nathaniel because I feel indebted to him. I want to marry Nathaniel because he _sees me._ Because I love him in a way I never thought it was possible to love anyone, and because he loves me in a way I never thought I could hope to be loved."

"But, darling, you have options. You don't need to live that way anymore. Why on earth would you choose a life of hardship on purpose?"

"Because I am an adult, and it is my decision to make. Because it isn't a _hardship_ to me to be happy with the man I love. Why is it so difficult for you to understand that I don't _want_ to live in this shallow, detestable society? I have never belonged here! I belong with Nathaniel, who is the only person I have ever known who hasn't tried to make me change who I am to fit into the façade of a life I don't even want!" Cora's voice rose at the last.

"This is nonsense!" Giles huffed as he stood. "Cora, you're overwrought, and you are not thinking clearly. I sympathize with all you have endured, but you must come to your senses. This is not how you were brought up. I told your father, as did your Aunt Margarat time and time again, that nothing good would ever come of him dragging you to into war zones in every corner of civilization with him, allowing you to be educated in ways unbecoming a lady, and God forbid, _practice medicine._ He never listened, and now, as a result, here you are running around as if you had no pedigree whatsoever, traipsing about the wilderness unchaperoned like some common trollop with this…this… _tattooed heathen_ and his unholy firearm!"

Nathaniel rose to face Giles, his eyes a firestorm of fury. "You say what you want about me, but you speak to Cora like that again and you and I are gonna have a serious disagreement." He did not raise his voice at all, but the tone was blood-chilling. "You people can do what you want with your rigid _Yengeese_ society lives, but do not be telling us what we ought to do with ours when you don't have any idea what it's like to really be alive. At least Cora is brave enough to want that and not give a damn what any of you think."

"You are insolent, and far beneath her station," Giles hissed. "Cora has clearly fallen into ruinous thinking, and it is no surprise given that she's been influenced by you, a backwoods cretin raised by savages, trying to turn her into one along with you!"

"Giles, please!" Eugenie cried.

Cora stood, trembling with rage. "That is enough!" she shouted. "My future husband and his 'savage' father saved my life. They helped me bury my sister after his 'savage' brother died trying to rescue her. They have stood with me in the ugliness of grief, and they have been nothing but accepting of the fact that the world I came to them from is painfully – and I do mean _painfully_ – different from theirs, yet they have protected and cared for me, for Alice, in spite of the fact that the world I came from has taken everything from them! Their kindness and grace is far more than I can ever attribute to the 'civilized' people in this world, especially those in this family who turned their cruel backs to my mother because she was deemed unworthy of them, and helped hasten her death. Given the choice, I think I will take my chances with the savages!" Shoving past Eugenie, she ran from the room, leaving Nathaniel behind with her speechless relatives.

Eugenie sighed and shook her head. "She has always been headstrong, that girl. Far too passionate for her own good. It makes her terribly unpredictable."

Nathaniel turned his icy gaze to her. "She is unpredictable, yes. She is outspoken and intelligent, and oh, yes, she is passionate. The trouble with you people is that you see this as a problem, as something that needs to be tamped out and put out of the way, where people like me see it as every reason in the world to love her. Maybe that's why she'd rather live with us backwoods cretins. I'd excuse myself, but since there doesn't seem to be any excuse for me, I'll just take my leave and my unholy firearm and go find my trollop."

He grabbed Killdeer and went after Cora. Reaching the courtyard, he looked around for her but didn't see her anywhere. Where would she go? He started toward the courtyard gate.

"Mr. Poe, please wait." He turned to find Eugenie following him.

"I think you've both made yourselves abundantly clear, Mrs. Barrington. There's not much else to say, is there?"

She fidgeted and looked away. "I…apologize for my husband's boorish outburst, Mr. Poe. Giles is…well, he is very different from you. As am I. That is clear. Regardless, he should not have said those things to you."

"His opinion of me means nothing. He doesn't know me or where I come from any better than I know him. My only concern here is to see that Cora is not hurt, or treated like she's some kind of abomination for being who she is, because it's my understanding that your family was only too happy to ignore her until it seemed she might cause you some kind of embarrassment. So you can understand if my opinion of you all isn't much better than yours of me. In your particular case, I make a mild exception, because she did say you were the only one who ever paid her any mind."

"You are right, Mr. Poe. Edmund's brother and sister were terrible to Eveline, and they never did really accept Cora. But Edmund was my favorite cousin, my childhood companion, and he loved them both as if they hung the moon and stars. I could not be so cruel, and Eveline was really quite a lovely person." She sighed shakily. "Cora was always so willful, so wild. There was no controlling her. Every time you turned around, she was up a tree trying to escape piano and embroidery. Just like Eddie when we were children."

"Can't say as I blame her." He smiled sardonically and leaned on Killdeer.

"This isn't much of a surprise, really. Edmund was very free with those girls, and they had no mother. Alice was more conventional, but even she was different. Once Cora took up with that battlefield surgeon, there was no stopping her with these ideas about freedom and independence and finding love before she married. I think she was gone from this life in her mind long before she met you."

"I don't doubt it. Speaking of her father, I think I might know where she's gone off to. Excuse me." He left the courtyard through the main gate and turned into the road. Giles came out behind Eugenie.

"We should go with him," she said.

"Whatever for?"

"Because we give a damn, dear. Now do try to restrain yourself, and let us go."

* * *

Cora sat at her father's grave in the churchyard, staring at the headstone that had been placed there since the first time she'd been. It was a simple stone with a sword carved over the top arch to denote a soldier, and the inscription read

_HERE LIES THE BODY OF_

_LT. COL. GEORGE EDMUND MUNRO_

_ROYAL BRITISH ARMY_

_1700-1757_

Her eyes welled and tears began to fall. "I am sorry, Papa," she whispered. "I said terrible things to you before you died. I was angry because you were going to hang Nathaniel, and I could not tell you that I had fallen in love with him. I love you too, but I could not abide your decision. There was no time to make it right. I hope that wherever you are, you understand now what happened, and that I forgive you. I wish so much for just one chance to talk to you again, when things are not as they were then. To thank you for giving me a life that let me become what I am. I feel I've made a dreadful mistake coming here, and now everyone is angry. I know that marrying Nathaniel is not what anyone expected of me, not even you, but I hope you can see that I am happy, and this is what I know is best for me." She leaned her forehead against the cold stone, sobbing. The rustling sound of avian wings startled her, and she looked up to see that a raven had landed on top of the headstone. The oily rainbow sheen of its feathers glistened, and she saw that it had a single grey feather on its left wingtip. It cocked its head and blinked its intelligent black eyes at her, making an odd trill from deep in its throat. It had something shiny in its beak.

"Hello," she said softly. "What have you got there?"

It trilled again and dropped the object at the foot of the stone, then flew away in a flurry of beating wings, cawing. Cora reached down and picked up the object, turning it over in her palm. She felt the blood drain from her head and thought she might faint briefly. Winking up at her in the sunlight was a gold button from a British Army uniform jacket. She looked up at the sky, but the bird was long gone, and she turned her head when she heard footfalls on the ground behind her, coming face to face with a pair of moccasins and buckskin leggings with blue woven garters.

"They're messengers, you know." Nathaniel's voice was soft. He set down Killdeer and took a knee beside her, reaching out to brush a tear from her face with his thumb. "Crow is still the emissary between our world and the spirit world. What did it give you?"

She opened her trembling hand to show him the button. "I…this is going to sound mad, but…I think it gave us my father's blessing." Her head bowed and she began to weep again. Nathaniel drew her into his embrace, gently stroking her hair. "I'm so sorry. This was a dreadful mistake. I never should have made you come here," she sobbed.

" _Ndah_. You didn't make me do anything. I'm here with you because I love you, and I would never have let you do this alone. It will be all right."

* * *

The Barringtons stood by the churchyard fence, having followed Nathaniel there. Eugenie watched as Nathaniel put his arms around Cora in front of the headstone where they both knelt, speaking gently to her in words they could not hear from where they stood.

"This is improper," Giles muttered. "They are too freely affectionate in public, when they are not even married."

Eugenie sighed. "Then I supposed we ought to get them married, shouldn't we? She is upset, Giles. I would think less of him if he did not go to her. Whatever we may feel about how…unconventional this is, it is plain that they love each other, and they are going to do as they will whether we agree or not."

Giles snorted. "I suppose it shouldn't come as a shock that she is simply a product of her father's choice to allow her to run amok while he was off fighting wars."

"There is nothing we can do about it now. Cora is nearly twenty-five, and her father left her in a position to make her own decision. She has lost the two people who she loved most in the world, and you know as well as I do that she will never be the same. Eddie never was after Eveline and then Alice. If she has found some measure of happiness after all that has happened to her, it is cruel to try to take it from her. I, for one, would rather disapprove of her life from a distance and still have her speak to me, for she is now all I have left of my dear Edmund, and I loved him best of all my family. Don't ruin that." A tear escaped. She wiped it away and walked through the churchyard gate to the grave, leaving Giles to ruminate.

Nathaniel offered a hand to Cora and helped her stand as her cousin approached. Eugenie stopped in front of the headstone and read the inscription, bending to run her fingers over the letters.

"My dear Eddie," she whispered. "May God bless you and keep you." She looked to Cora with a deep sigh and took her hands. "Darling, I am sorry. Please try to understand that this…is going to take some getting used to. Please come back to the house with us, there are still some things to discuss. There will be no more outbursts. I only want you to be happy, even if it is in a way I can never understand." Cora looked up at Nathaniel.

"It is up to you, _ndah._ We can stay or go as you please," he said.

"All right," she agreed. "We will go back. We will need to finish business, and I would like to have the things you brought to me from Boston."

Eugenie gave a shaky smile and hugged her. "Yes, of course. It would appear we have a wedding to arrange as well, since there doesn't seem to be any dissuading you from your Mr. Poe here, or him from you." She smiled hesitantly at Nathaniel. Giving her a curt nod, he picked up Killdeer and took Cora's hand, and they went to meet Giles at the gate, heading back onto the road to the Patroon's house.

_"When it is over, I don't want to wonder_   
_if I have made of my life something particular, and real._   
_I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,_   
_or full of argument._   
_I don't want to end up simply having visited this world."_

_-Mary Oliver-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:
> 
> It is a miracle that this chapter got written as quickly as it did, but I think it was a welcome distraction. As I write this note, I am four hours south of home to attend a funeral in the morning, I have severe bronchitis, and this week has been utterly insane. That being said, I hope you like this plot development. I had debated for a while at first about whether Cora would even bother to contact her remaining family, or just disappear into the wilderness, but I decided that she would at least want to contact Eugenie, because she would be likely to hear of Munro's death anyway. It is really challenging to put Nathaniel into that world – I kind of feel bad for him having to put up with these stuffy, clueless people, but I also kind of don't feel bad because we all know he can hold his own and he gives zero f*cks.
> 
> When I picture Eugenie, she looks a lot like Helen Mirren. I had originally intended to make her more like Giles, but that's not how she came out, and I like her this way. She's more likeable, just clueless and snotty, and realistically if she was the only person who ever really cared about Cora, she can't be all that bad. She's just married to a pompous windbag. I see Giles Cuthbert Barrington III as a very disapproving Billy Nighy in a powdered wig and spectacles, and I love it. I laughed a lot writing the argument between Giles and Nathaniel, and I hope it's not too ridiculous because I truly enjoyed setting Nathaniel's sharp tongue loose on that guy. I couldn't help adding the "unholy firearm" comment. Can you imagine being a citified British society toff and having a BAMF like Nathaniel walk in with a five-foot and change rifle in tow?
> 
> As for the Raven/Crow reference, the Delaware/Lenape story of Rainbow Crow is my very favorite. It is a beautiful tale unique to the Lenni Lenape, and if you've never heard it, you should! Aside from the courageous and self-sacrificing creature that Crow is in this story, in general, corvids are seen among many Native American tribes as messengers between worlds, as well as heralds of change due to Crow's ability to shapeshift. That symbolism seems appropriate for Cora. These birds are dear to me, and Crow will have more cameos here and there through the following chapters.
> 
> I do very much want to know if people like this chapter and where I'm going with this story, so please leave reviews if you can! Thank you so much for sticking with me! We don't have much longer to go before we will have a wedding….!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cora and Nathaniel are back from Albany, and wedding preparations are in full swing.

**Chapter 5**

_"_ _And when I quit the city and came home,_

_I found myself where I was supposed to be before…_

_People live not knowing,_

_all they know is the top of their shoes today._

_They don't know the glory,_

_the what we're living underneath._

_Beauty, nighttime, daytime –_

_That is what the things are that I value."_

_-Jimmy Reyna, Taos Pueblo-_

Cora sang softly to herself as she took dry laundry off the line outside. The late September afternoon was crisp and cool and sunny, a chilly breeze picking up and lifting the corners of the hanging sheets and clothes that hid her from plain view except for her silhouette in the sunlight behind them. She breathed the air deeply, happy to be back where she knew she belonged, taking in the glorious sight of the deciduous trees in the forest catching fire with the changing of their leaves.

 _"_ _Here's forty shillings on the drum_

_For those who volunteer to come_

_Enlist and fight the foe today_

_Over the hills and far away…"_

They had arrived back from Albany the previous evening, bringing with them Cora's trunk from Boston, and plenty of news for everyone about upcoming wedding plans. After they had smoothed things over a bit back at the Patroon's house, a somewhat strained discussion had ensued about how best to accomplish the union. In the end, Eugenie and Giles had persuaded them to go the formal legal route because of Cora's dowry. Since neither Nathaniel or Cora had any particular preference for how it was done, they had agreed. After visiting the county clerk and paying the fee to obtain a marriage license, they had spoken to the vicar at the church where Cora's father was buried. He remembered Cora from the first visit, knowing who her father had been, and with the offer of a nice donation to the parish in thanks for interring her cousin, Eugenie had convinced him to agree to perform the ceremony in two weeks' time at the MacKays' farm. Sarah had been excited to hear that they would have a wedding so soon, though Cora had felt guilty for springing it on them so quickly, promising that it would be very simple and only a formality. She had asked if Sarah and Ian would rather they just marry at the church in Albany, but Sarah would not hear of it. She wanted to have the wedding here, where the family could be with them, and their friends and neighbors. Cora liked the sound of that, and even more she liked the idea that in two weeks' time, she and Nathaniel would finally be married and could really start their life together. Soon they would need to come to a decision about where they would spend the winter, and what they would do after that.

_"_ _O'er the hills and o'er the main_

_To Flanders, Portugal and Spain_

_King George commands and we obey_

_Over the hills and far away…"_

She pulled a wooden clothespin from a shirt and dropped it in her apron pocket. As she reached for another, Nathaniel slipped in under the sheet behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She yelped in surprise.

"Nathaniel! You scared the life out of me!"

"I'm sorry. I didn't want you to stop singing. I like it when you sing." He planted a kiss on the nape of her neck above the muslin fichu she wore tucked into the neckline of her dress to protect her skin from the sun while she worked.

She laughed and shrugged. "It's just an Army song. The soldiers used to sing it sometimes at night around the fires. Alice and I learned many songs listening to them." She turned around in Nathaniel's arms to face him. "Are you and Alasdair all done with the barn roof, then?"

"We are. The hole wasn't very big, didn't take long to repair it. We were just on our way back up to the house, so I stopped to say hello to you."

She smiled, resting her hands against his chest. "I'm glad. I missed you today."

"I missed you as well," his arms tightened, pulling her closer, "and I certainly couldn't waste a perfectly good opportunity to be hidden from view with my future wife for a short while." He grinned wolfishly and leaned closer. "I feel like I haven't kissed you properly in weeks." His mouth came down over hers, his tongue running over the seam of her lips. She parted them with a soft sigh of welcome, meeting his heated caress as the subtle flame that always burned inside her for him flared, licking at her, taking over her senses as she melted into him. Her palms glided against his chest as she wound one arm around him, the other hand cupping the back of his neck, her thumb stroking the pulse under his jaw.

Nathaniel's body hummed at the feel of Cora against him. She wore no stays today, the softness of her form pliant under his hands as they slid over her back, around her waist, pressing her flush with him. His lips left hers to find the tender spot just beneath her ear, a small purr sounding in her throat as he lightly nipped her there. He tugged the edges of the fichu out of the neckline of her dress to expose the soft skin underneath, placing kisses along where it had lain as he breathed in the scent of her. She smelled like earth and sunshine, and he wanted all of her.

"I can't ever get close enough to you," he murmured, kissing along the underside of her jaw.

"I feel the same way," she said breathlessly, her lips trailing caresses to the hollow of his throat, across his collarbone, the laundry forgotten.

"I can't wait until we're married. Perhaps I'll feel close enough when I can finally make love to you the way I want to...finally touch you everywhere."

"Oh, God," she gasped, her knees going weak at the thought, her hands gripping his shirt to steady herself. He had never said such an overtly intimate thing to her, and it made her insides quiver as heat pooled between her thighs. "Two weeks feels like an eternity – oh!" He nipped her neck, then sought her mouth again briefly before pulling back and placing a kiss on the tiny cleft in her chin. She sighed, her eyes opening to meet his. "It cannot arrive quickly enough. But Nathaniel…are you sure you don't mind doing all this? The wedding, I mean. It's…I know it is not what your people would do."

He kissed her nose. "It's no matter to me how you become my wife, as long as you do. My father's people don't have much in the way of formal wedding customs, so we'll do this. It's what your father would want. Our friends will be with us, and my father, and we'll have a good day of celebration. And later, how we were wed will matter not at all…not when I make you mine..." He began brushing kisses over her lips and throat again.

"You are positively wicked," she breathed. "Mmmm. If you don't stop that, Sarah's going to wonder if I've run off into the forest with all this laundry, because I'll never make it back to the house."

Laughing, he let her go with a last kiss, and she rearranged her fichu where he had pulled it free. After helping her take down the rest of the laundry, he carried the basket to the house with her walking by his side. Maggie came out the back door and made a beeline for them.

"Cora! N'thaniel! Look what Chingachgook made me!" she hollered. Nathaniel held the laundry basket in one arm and scooped Maggie up over his shoulder with the other, the little girl squealing with laughter. Cora's heart melted. One day it would be their own children he played with.

"Let's see what you've got then, Maggie," he said. She proudly held up a doe carved from a piece of wood, grinning broadly.

"What a lovely toy!" Cora exclaimed. "That's a very nice gift."

"Aidan got one too," Maggie replied. "A stag."

"Well now, that's a fine thing." Nathaniel smiled. "Let's go inside and see." He set Maggie down, dropping a kiss on top of her head, and they went into the house together.

* * *

_October 1, 1757_

One week before the wedding was to take place, Cora stood in front of her trunk with Sarah, feeling a barrage of emotions.

"I haven't been able to bring myself to open it yet," she confessed, "but I must. Eugenie packed some of my clothes in it, and I must get married in something, mustn't I?"

Sarah laughed. "My girl, I think Nathaniel would take you in a sack and never care a bit, he loves you so. However, since you've got the option…come now. I'll help you."

With a deep sigh, Cora lifted the lid of the trunk and knelt in front of it to begin removing what was inside. There were several of her dresses that she had not brought to Albany with her. There were also a few hats, stays, several pairs of stockings, lace-trimmed shifts and nightdresses, and a heavy wool cloak that would likely come in handy this winter.

"These are lovely." Sarah touched the fabric of one of the dresses, a steel blue floral brocade. "I've not seen anything so fine for some time."

"I don't know what I shall do with them, really. I'll hardly ever have cause to wear such things now. Still, they will be appropriate for when we visit Albany at least, and some of the other items will be useful." She removed a fine cotton fichu with a Dutch lace applique at the back point to see what was underneath it. "Oh…" she breathed as she lifted out the last of her dresses. It had been made for her back in London; she had fallen completely in love with the fabric when the modiste had shown it to her. It had been delivered just two weeks before they left England for Boston, so she had brought it with her. A _robe a l'Anglaise_ , the fabric was a woven silk brocade of deep purple and cream, figured with flowers and vines, among them tiny woodland animals – deer, birds, rabbits, and fanciful unicorns. The main part of the outer robe was the deep purple base with the figured pattern in cream, and the middle stomacher panel was the same fabric in reverse color, with purple silk-covered buttons down the front to fasten it. The bottoms of the elbow-length sleeves were finished in two layers of bell-shaped cascades, banded with pleated ruffles of the reverse-colored fabric at the elbow where the fitted part of the sleeve ended. It was devoid of any lace or ribbon trim – it needed no ornamentation. The accompanying petticoat that showed beneath the gown's split front was of heavy cream silk, with three pleated ruffle bands of the main fabric trimming around the bottom half in evenly spaced rows.

"Oh, my, Cora. That is exquisite." Sarah whispered, her eyes wide.

"It was my favorite, and I never even got to wear it. It was new, I brought it with me when we came from London to be with Papa here." Cora touched the buttons at the front fastening. "I think this will be the one for the wedding. It's so lovely, it would be a shame not to wear it at least once."

"I completely agree. I've never seen anything like it, and the color was made for you. You'll be an absolute vision, love. Nathaniel won't know what to do with himself when he sees you!"

Cora laughed. "Then it's settled." She leaned over into the trunk again and reached into the bottom to retrieve the last few items. There was a book, a small wooden box, and three pieces of clothing, folded. She laid the leatherbound book of stories on her lap. "This was Alice's. She used to read it to the sick soldiers in the Army camps when we went on campaigns with Papa." Her voice was a whisper as she set it down and opened the wooden box. There were several pairs of earbobs, some of which had been her mother's. A brooch that had belonged to Alice, a beautiful tangle of silver vines and leaves set with tiny pearls. Alice had loved it – it had been a Christmas gift from their father three years ago, and she had worn it often. With a deep, trembling breath, Cora began to unfold the clothing. The first item was a wool sash of Munro tartan, bright crimson and green, shot through with golden yellow. Her father had occasionally worn it at his shoulder on special occasions when he wore dress clothes. The second item was a pale green silk scarf of Alice's. She held it to her face. It still smelled faintly of the rosewater Alice had favored. Her eyes filled with tears and they ran down her face. The last item was a plain white muslin men's shirt, her father's. It still smelled like him, too. She gathered it and Alice's scarf into her arms and buried her face in them, sobbing.

Sarah knelt beside her and wrapped her in a hug, remembering too well the loss of her own family at Culloden. "Oh, my girl. How precious to have these things, but how they break your heart, too."

"I want _them_. I want them here. I wanted Alice to stand with me, I wanted Papa with me when I married," she sobbed brokenly, "but the worst of it is that I never would have been able to marry Nathaniel anyway, because Papa would have executed him, and I hate that so much." She wiped her face on her apron, her cheeks red and blotchy from crying.

"There's naught you can do to change it, love. You loved your father. He made a poor judgment in a desperate situation, but beyond that it seems to me he loved you and your sister immeasurably. Nathaniel came to no harm, so there's no sense in feeling so much guilt over that bit. The sadness...that doesn't ever go away, but it changes over time and you'll find ways to be at peace with it." Sarah squeezed her hand.

"Thank you, Sarah. I am so glad we came here. You and Ian have been such wonderful friends to us through all of this."

"We'd have done nothing else. Nathaniel and his family have been good to all of us around here for a long time. We love them like family, and you're part of that now. We take care of our own." She rose to her feet and Cora followed, picking up the steel blue brocade dress.

"Sarah, will you wear this for the wedding?"

"Oh, I couldn't!" she said, shaking her head.

"Please? They should get some use, and it is just the color of your eyes. I would love to see it on you, and I'd wager so would Ian. You'll look beautiful." She smiled at her friend.

"Well…I suppose if you put it like that, I'll have to agree! I shall be very careful with it. Thank you."

Cora hugged her. "It is I who will always thank you, Sarah. I could never repay all you have done."

"Bah. Stop that now, you're making me maudlin." She gestured at her teary eyes. "I've got to get back to the house now and start supper, I've shirked enough responsibility for one afternoon, and Alasdair's minding the baby."

"Go on, I'll be along shortly to help after I put these things away."

Sarah left and Cora began to repack the dresses into the trunk. She left the items of her father's and Alice's out, as well as her nightdresses, setting them on a small wooden table near the bed. As she was closing the trunk lid, a knock sounded at the door. She opened it to find Chingachgook standing there, holding a small bundle wrapped in buckskin.

"Is everything all right?" she asked. "Come in."

"All is well," he assured her as he stepped into the cabin, "Sarah said you were here, and I wanted to speak to you. About the wedding."

Cora didn't know how to respond, concerned that perhaps he was unhappy about something. "Oh? What is it?"

Chingachgook smiled and touched her arm. "Nothing to worry about. I have some things for you, that is all. Sit down with me." He set the bundle down on the table and opened it, taking a seat on one of the stools as Cora sat on another.

"When my people marry, it is a simple affair. Sometimes it is arranged between families, but more often a couple wishes to come together as one, and so their families reach an agreement. An exchange of goods, wampum, or jewelry, and it is done. The bride brought to her husband, and they are married. Much different than the _Yengeese_."

"It does sound less complicated," she replied.

"Though your customs are different, it ends the same way, and soon you will become Nathaniel's wife, a daughter of the Mohican people as he is their adopted son. While we are not making a formal arrangement the way my people have done, I do have some things I wish to give to you…to say that I welcome you as my daughter, and by accepting them, you agree to become part of this family."

Cora swallowed hard, a lump rising in her throat. He took from the bundle a choker and a pair of earrings made of white whelk and purple quahog wampum beads, and placed them in her hands. The swirling purple of the quahog beads wove a fine geometric pattern among the creamy white beads of the choker, and the earrings were double loops of strung white beads, with larger purple ones at the bottom of each loop.

"These belonged to my wife. I gave them to her when our families made our marriage agreement. I would like you to have them."

Cora looked at him, her eyes glistening with tears. "They are beautiful. I am deeply honored to receive such a precious gift from you. Thank you."

Chingachgook nodded and smiled, holding out something else wrapped in cloth. Cora took it from him and unwrapped it to find a pair of deerskin moccasins, the tops covered in delicate glass beadwork depicting a border of white flowers and green leaves, and in the center, black crows with rainbow wings. She gasped in amazement and touched the fine design.

"Oh, my," she whispered, "these are so very beautiful. Did you do this?"

"With Sarah's help, yes."

She wondered when on earth they had found the time to do such a thing, and she was overcome with gratitude and love, that her friend and her soon-to-be father in law would put so much effort into such a thoughtful and exquisite gift.

"I scarcely know what to say," she said, a tear falling down her cheek. "You did not have to do this."

"But I wanted to," he said gently. "It makes my heart glad that you embrace my people, learn our language, our stories and customs, and most of all that you make my son a happy man. If my wife were here, she would be pleased too, and she would have done this for you."

"Thank you, Chingachgook. I could not be happier to be part of your family, and I don't know how I will ever be able to thank you for everything you have done for me."

"Yes. Well. Grandchildren would be a good start." He chuckled and rose from the table. Cora beamed at him and stood up to hug him.

"We'll see if we can manage a few. Come, let us go to the house. Sarah will be waiting for me to help her prepare supper, and Nathaniel and Ian will be done for the day soon." She rewrapped the bundle with the moccasins and jewelry, carefully placing them in the trunk on top of her wedding dress, and they left the cabin together.

* * *

The evening was dark, the air growing colder. Nathaniel sat on the back porch of the farmhouse alone. Chingachgook had gone off to the cabin to bed after they had talked for a while. He got up and went inside to find Cora, entering quietly so as not to disturb anyone. She was pacing the kitchen with Aileen sleeping in her arms, singing softly to her. The sweet sound of her quiet, lilting voice washed over him, and as she turned and saw him there and held a finger to her lips, he could see their future, her with their own children. A flood of warmth spread through him, and he wondered when he had become so sentimental. He shook his head with a small smile and kissed her forehead.

"Sarah's putting Aidan and Maggie to bed," she whispered, sitting down on the bench at the long kitchen table. Nathaniel sat down beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and looked at the peaceful face of the sleeping baby.

"Do you think we'll have a boy or a girl first?" he asked quietly. She looked up at him, smiling, and raised a brow.

"Thinking about children already, _mo chridhe_?" she laughed softly. "I don't know. I don't think I would mind in either case, would you?"

He shook his head, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. "I never even thought about these things before I met you. Never wanted them before. Did you?"

"I suppose I thought about marriage and children, but wanted them? Not especially. But you know how that would have been for me if there had never been you. Now…well, your father wants grandchildren, you know."

Nathaniel rolled his eyes with a grin. "Don't I know it. He's been after Uncas and me for years now…well…now he'll just be after me." His face grew somber at the thought of the nieces and nephews he would never see. "At least I'm doing the first part and settling down, in any case." He kissed her hair and she leaned against him. Soon Sarah came to retrieve the baby and bid them good night.

Walking together back to the cabin, he stopped and stretched out on the grass, pulling her down with him.

"What are you doing?" she laughed as he drew her to his side.

"Looking at the stars with the woman I'm going to marry. Look at that, not a cloud in the sky tonight." He was right. The moon was rising over the treetops, and the stars hung sparkling in the clear, dark sky, the Milky Way blazing a hazy trail across the heavens. Cora snuggled against Nathaniel, laying her head on his shoulder, his fingers running through her loose hair in slow, lazy strokes.

"So much has changed," he murmured. "I remember that first night, when we met. I had no idea what to do with you when you came to talk to me. I hadn't expected you to do that."

"I thought you hated me. I wanted to apologize for…I don't know. It had become very clear to me that there were many things here I did not understand, and I felt badly that you had known and cared for the Camerons. When I realized that I felt so foolish for being so ignorant and rude to you."

"I didn't hate you. I just didn't understand you, and at the time I didn't want to. I thought we'd get you to the fort, then be gone and I'd never see you again anyway." He chuckled softly. "Then you pulled out that pistol and started asking questions, and I started to think maybe I was in a bit of trouble."

"Yes, I think the same thing happened to me when you started telling me about the stars. I didn't quite know what to think of you before that, and after, I…well, I had never felt anything so odd, and I wanted to understand what was happening. Everything was so different here, _you_ were so different, so…"

"Deeply stirring to your blood?" He cocked a brow, smiling, his hand still combing through her hair.

"Well…yes. The wilderness. The idea of existing out here completely free of society's expectations. And you. You were looking at me in the dark like you'd changed your mind about hating me, and…I didn't know what to do about how you made me feel."

"I felt it too, and didn't sleep a wink that night with you lying beside me. Then after we got to the fort, your Mr. Phelps told me you'd been working with him a long time…you were in the surgery with Uncas, and you looked so at ease working there. I thought I'd never seen anything like you right then, and you were so beautiful…I definitely knew I was in trouble then, and that I wasn't going anywhere. Uncas gave me a mighty hard time after that, and Jack too, when he figured out why I was staying behind."

"I'm glad you didn't leave," she whispered. "I never could have imagined what would happen after that night…that we would end up here, like this. Getting married in a week's time. What a strange thing fate is."

She turned her head on his shoulder to look up at him, and he caught her lips with his, his hand cupping her face, thumb softly caressing her cheek. Her fingers stroked along his arm and into his hair. He deepened the kiss, nudging her lips apart, his tongue meeting hers in slow, sensual strokes as a hum of pleasure sounded in his throat. She sighed into him, her fingers tracing circles on his scalp.

"There is nowhere else I would rather be," he said against her lips. "I love this…I love you."

"And I love you." She began brushing kisses over his face. "We're getting married in a week."

"That we are. Then you'll be stuck with me forever."

"You and your unholy firearm," she snickered, kissing his nose.

"Mmmm. Burdened for eternity with a heathen. So terrible." He kissed her chin.

"Backwoods cretin." She nipped his lower lip.

"Trollop." He buried his face in her neck, and they dissolved into laughter, the musical sound carrying across the dark night, traveling up to the stars that shone down upon them.

 _"_ _I am your moon and your moonlight too_

_I am your flower garden and your water too_

_I have come all this way, eager for you_

_Without shoes or shawl_

_I want you to laugh_

_To kill all your worries_

_To love you_

_To nourish you."_

_-Rumi-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:
> 
> Mo chridhe means "my heart" in Scots Gaelic, as ndah means the same in Mohican.
> 
> So we have reached wedding time, which will finally happen in the following chapter! After that, we'll see where life takes Cora, Nathaniel and Chingachgook. I have some more thinking and planning to do, but I think I've mostly ironed out what's coming for them. For this chapter, I was rather preoccupied with Cora's wedding dress. I knew I wanted her to wear something purple because I had planned for the wampum jewelry for some time, and while I knew what I wanted the dress to look like in design, the fabric was another thing altogether. My inspiration for that ended up coming from a strange place – a woven wrap used for babywearing. I own several that I've used with my daughter when she was smaller (and still do occasionally), and the one that inspired the fabric for Cora's dress is one I've never owned but that I absolutely love; these wraps can really be works of art, they are so beautiful. This particular one is called Pavo Unicornio. I imagine the dress fabric to look similar, and the deep purple and cream colorway would look gorgeous with wampum jewelry and the beautiful beaded moccasins. I liked the idea of all the little forest animals - it's kind of fitting, especially the deer, since she's marrying a frontiersman and hunter who has spent most of his life in the forest.
> 
> The song Cora is singing at the beginning of this chapter is an 18th century folk song called "Over the Hills and Far Away." It is an old favorite of mine; a very good friend of mine sang it often (and I sang it with him on many occasions around a fire). I lost him 15 years ago, and that anniversary recently passed. I was feeling nostalgic, so I had her singing that song as a little nod to my cherished friend. :)
> 
> Thank you all for continuing to read, and stay tuned in the next week or so for the wedding day!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathaniel and Cora get married in a lovely ceremony, and a steamy wedding night ensues.

**Chapter 6**

_"Today's the day I make you mine_

_So get me to the church on time_

_Take my hand in this empty room_

_You're my girl and I'm your groom_

_Come to me my sweetest friend_

_This is where we start again_

_Come to me my sweetest friend_

_Can you feel my heart again_

_I'll take you back where you belong_

_And this will be our favorite song_

_Come to me with secrets bare_

_I'll love you more so don't be scared_

_And when we're old and near the end_

_We'll go home and start again_

_Start again"_

_-John Rzeznik Gregg Wattenburg-_

**Fair Warning: There is explicit sexual content in this chapter.**

_October 8, 1757_

Nathaniel sat at the table in the cabin, nervously tapping a foot on the floor. He was dressed, and hadn't a clue what to do with himself now. Jack and his family had arrived this morning, along with several other neighbors from surrounding farms. Even their Mohawk friend Ongewasgone had come at Jack's invitation, bringing his wife as well as his sons and daughter. They had arrived the previous evening; Nathaniel had been glad and relieved to see them, since he had not known what had happened to most of their Mohawk friends after Fort William Henry had been surrendered. Eugenie and Giles had also arrived the day before, and the minister with them. That had made for an interesting evening, he thought. Cora's stuffy relatives in the same room with his father and a Mohawk family…he thought with a wicked grin that perhaps that alone made the entire wedding affair worth it. The minister had handled it with significantly more grace than Giles, though Eugenie made an admirable effort. He stood and began to pace. Sarah had gone proper on them, and this entire week had not allowed him and Cora to be alone together once, even insisting Cora sleep up at the house until the wedding. All week he had not touched her or held her, and he thought he would go mad in anticipation of today. _Today_. In just a short while, Cora would at last be his wife, and he her husband. He felt like he had waited for this day for centuries, and now he only wanted the moment to come when she would stand before him and they would take their vows, and he could spend the rest of his life with her at his side.

Nathaniel looked up with a start as Chingachgook came in. He looked every bit the Mohican elder today, dressed in moccasins, leggings, a heavily decorated ceremonial breechclout and a red shirt, with wampum and brass jewelry, and feathers adorning his hair. Nathaniel was dressed similarly, in a new pair of buckskin leggings with beaded garters at the knees. The apron of his breechclout was decorated with geometric designs in blue, red, and green outlined in white. His open-front style shirt was moss-green cotton, a new one Cora had made for today. He wore no jewelry; he never did, and his long, dark hair was tied half back as he always wore it, though today he also wore feathers at the back.

Chingachgook stood before him, holding a wampum belt in his hands. "Today is a happy day. Today my son takes a wife. I hope you will be as happy as I was with your mother, in the short time I was lucky enough to have her with me. This is a gift for you; it was given to me by your mother's father when our marriage was agreed upon, and now I am giving it to you, as you begin your journey on a new path with the woman you have chosen."

Nathaniel took the belt, speechless, trying to swallow the lump rising in his throat. This belt would have been given to Uncas when he married, and Nathaniel had no words. He looked at his father, tears in his eyes, and he seemed to understand what his son could not say. Nathaniel embraced him, hugging him hard.

"Thank you, father. I am honored, and grateful that you are here with me today. I wish my brother was here as well."

"As do I. But today…today is a day for you and Cora, a day for joy. Let us not be sad today." He took the belt and tied it around Nathaniel's waist, then placed his hands on his shoulders. "Now you are ready. Shall we go?"

"One more thing," Nathaniel said. He turned to the table by the bed, picking something up and tucking it beneath the belt. "Let us go. It's almost time."

* * *

"Oh, Cora. You look breathtaking! I had hoped you would choose this gown to wear today!" Eugenie exclaimed as she finished Cora's hair and moved to stand in front of her.

"That you do, love," Sarah said. "I knew you'd be a vision in that gown, but it's even more beautiful on you than I imagined!"

Cora glanced in the small mirror on the wall and smiled. She wore the purple brocade gown with the beaded moccasins Chingachgook and Sarah had made for her, and the wampum choker and earrings that had belonged to Nathaniel's mother. The purple and white of the shell beads complemented her gown perfectly. Her thick, dark hair was pinned up, with sections of the top braided back into a cascade of her natural waves and curls falling from the crown. Alice's silver and pearl brooch was pinned there, surrounded by a small spray of Queen Anne's lace and late purple asters that grew wild in the forest, and fragrant lavender from the garden, which she had also added to her bathwater that morning. At the corner of her bodice neckline, she had pinned the gold uniform button the raven had left her at the churchyard, with three ravens' feathers behind it; one for her father, one for Alice, and one for Uncas. She stood, taking a deep breath, her skirts falling in a swath around her. She had elected not to wear panniers for a more natural shape.

"It looks lovely, thank you, Eugenie. And you, Sarah, for bringing the flowers."

"They are a lovely addition," Eugenie agreed with a smile. She touched Cora's cheek. "You look so like your mother. I know we've had our troubles about all of this, but putting all that aside, I am glad that you are happy, darling. That's all your father ever wanted for you, and you are so much like him too. He bucked all propriety for the love of your mother, and I never saw him happier than he was with her. I wish the same for you and Mr. Poe."

Cora embraced her. "Thank you," she whispered.

Giles knocked and poked his head in, looking as sullen as ever, and mildly uncomfortable. "The minister is ready, Eugenie. Let us move along." Eugenie followed him out, and Sarah remained behind with Cora.

"Insufferable curmudgeon," she muttered. "How she's endured him all these years is beyond me."

Cora giggled. "He is dreadful. I daresay he's gotten worse over the years, too, but Eugenie has a way with him."

Sarah took her hands and beamed, looking lovely in the steel blue dress Cora had lent her. "Are you nervous?"

"No, only excited. I've never been more certain of anything in my life than I am of this – of Nathaniel."

"Well then, shall we go? Your groom awaits." They walked through the house toward the back door. Chingachgook stood there, as did Eugenie and Giles, the latter eyeing Chingachgook nervously and looking around the room. Chingachgook gave Giles a sly sidelong glance and straightened, making himself taller and more imposing.

"What's going on?" Cora asked, confused as to why they were there.

"You should have an escort. Someone to present you to your husband. Your father is not here, so perhaps…you would allow me?" Chingachgook smiled.

"And us," Eugenie added, "since we are your family." Giles' eyebrows rose to his hairline, and he shot another uneasy glance at Chingachgook, clearing his throat. Eugenie elbowed him, her smile never faltering.

"Er…yes. We would…uh…yes. Please allow us, along with…uh…Mr. Poe's father here."

"That would be wonderful," Cora said, deeply touched by the offer. Sarah gave her a quick hug and darted outside to let the minister know they were ready. Cora took a deep breath, ready at last to marry the man she would love for the rest of her days.

* * *

"You're gonna wear a hole in the ground," Ian said, watching Nathaniel pace as they stood with the minister waiting to begin.

"Ah, give the man some quarter, Ian, it's not every day that _La Longue Carabine_ finally gets married," Jack Winthrop chuckled. "And to Munro's daughter, no less."

"Aye, well, that's true enough, but I can't say I pity you one bit, Nathaniel. If there was ever a woman on earth made for you, it's Cora Munro."

"Ain't that God's honest truth," Jack said. "That was plain from the start. I'm glad for you both, my friend. This is a fine day."

"That it is," Nathaniel replied. "If we can just get to the marrying part already."

"Soon, my friend, soon enough," Ian laughed, clapping Nathaniel on the shoulder. At that, Sarah came bustling across the grass from the house to tell the minister that the bride was ready. She, Ian and Jack took their places among the guests with their families, and Nathaniel straightened, his heart pounding. At last, after all the struggle, grief, and hard-won happiness, she would be his to love forever. _At last._

He raised his head and watched her come to him, holding his father's arm at her left side, and Giles and Eugenie at her right. The world around him faded, and Cora was all he could see. She had always been beautiful to him, but at this moment he did not think he had ever seen her look more bewitching. He took in her purple and cream silk gown, figured with flowers and animals, the flowers adorning her hair, the beaded moccasins on her feet. His eyes welled with tears when he saw that she wore his mother's jewelry. As she came ever closer, he saw her notice her father's tartan sash tucked into his belt. Her face broke into a radiant smile when she met his gaze, her eyes glistening, and he returned the smile. When she finally reached him, Eugenie kissed her cheek and she and Giles stepped to her side. Chingachgook took her hand and placed it in Nathaniel's, then took a place beside his son. Looking down at Cora, Nathaniel was so stunned by her that he could barely draw breath. Her hand trembled in his, and he squeezed it lightly, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. He saw the button at her bodice with the three feathers, and guessing who they were for, met her eyes with appreciation.

Cora gazed up at Nathaniel as he dazzled her with one of the beautiful smiles she loved so much. His green shirt brought out the gold-flecked green of his eyes, making them almost glow in the afternoon sun beneath his dark lashes. She thought he had never looked more handsome, and seeing that he wore the sash of Munro tartan at his belt made her heart swell. It was a small gesture that spoke volumes to her, and she didn't think she could possibly love him more than she did right now. She was so lost in him that she almost didn't hear the minister begin. As he started to speak, they faced him together.

"Dearly beloved, we have come together in the presence of God to witness and bless the joining together of Nathaniel Poe and Cora Munro in Holy Matrimony. The bond and covenant of marriage was established by God in creation, and our Lord Jesus Christ adorned this manner of life by His presence and first miracle at the wedding in Cana of Galilee. It signifies to us the mystery of the union between Christ and His Church, and Holy Scripture commends it to be honored among all people. The union of husband and wife is intended by God for their mutual joy; for the help and comfort given each other in prosperity and adversity; and, when it is God's will, for the procreation of children and their nurture in the knowledge and love of the Lord. Therefore, marriage is not to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly, but reverently, deliberately, and in accordance with the purposes for which it was instituted by God. Into this union Cora and Nathaniel now come to be joined. If any of you can show just cause why they may not be lawfully wed, speak now, or else forever hold your peace."

A gentle breeze blew, rustling the trees in the forest, but not a word was spoken from anyone present. The minister continued.

"Nathaniel. Cora. You have truly been tested by the world, and have overcome. You have endured profound loss and grief, and arisen victorious in your love for one another. I charge you both, here in the presence of God and the witness of this company, that if either of you know any reason why you may not be married lawfully and in accordance with God's Word, do now confess it."

They stood in silence, and after a moment he spoke again.

"Cora, will you have this man to be your husband; to live together with him in the covenant of marriage? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, be faithful unto him as long as you both shall live?"

"I will," she answered.

"Nathaniel, will you have this woman to be your wife; to live together with her in the covenant of marriage? Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, be faithful unto her as long as you both shall live?"

"I will," he said, stealing a glance at his beautiful bride.

"And will all of you witnessing these promises do all in your power to uphold these two persons in their marriage?"

"We will," their guests and family answered back.

"Who gives this woman to be married to this man?"

"She gives herself," Eugenie answered, "With the blessing of her family in the absence of her mother and father." She smiled at Cora, tears in her eyes.

The minister began the readings, having chosen excerpts from Proverbs 31, and Ecclesiastes 3. At long last, he closed his Bible and looked to the bride and groom, asking them each to recite their vows. They turned to face each other, and Nathaniel took Cora's hands in his. He looked down at her with a gentle smile, her cheeks flushed pink and her eyes filling with tears, as did his own.

"In the name of God, maker of all life, I, Nathaniel Hawkeye, take you, Cora, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow. You stand in my soul, and I stand in yours. Your people are my people. Your mother is my mother, your father is my father, and your sister is my sister."

A tear escaped and ran down Cora's face; the last words were his own addition, and they overwhelmed her with their profundity. She gazed back at Nathaniel, her heart beating wildly in her breast, and clasped his hands.

"In the name of God, maker of all life, I, Cora, take you, Nathaniel Hawkeye, to be my husband, to have and to hold form this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow. You stand in my soul, and I stand in yours. Your people are my people. Your mother is my mother, your father is my father, and your brother is my brother."

Nathaniel's eyes welled again, a storm of emotion in them. He lifted her hands and bowed his forehead against them reverently.

"Now that Cora and Nathaniel have given themselves to each other by solemn vows, with the joining of hands, I pronounce that they are husband and wife, in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Those whom God has joined together, let no one put asunder."

They knelt before him as he led the Lord's Prayer and the concluding blessing. "God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Spirit, bless, preserve and keep you; the Lord mercifully with his favor look upon you, and fill you with all spiritual benediction and grace; that you may faithfully live together in this life, and in the age to come have life everlasting. Amen. The peace of the Lord be with you always."

"And also with you." Everyone replied, as the couple stood to face each other once more. The minister beamed at them and raised his arms.

"Cora and Nathaniel, having witnessed your vows of love to one another, it is my joy to present you to all gathered here as husband and wife." He turned to Nathaniel. "You may kiss the bride."

Letting out a ragged breath, Nathaniel cupped Cora's face in his hands and drew her to him, his lips covering hers, and a boisterous cheer erupted from their guests. She looped her arms around his neck, and he gathered her against him and lifted her off her feet as she kissed him back with everything she had. Setting her back down, he touched his forehead to hers.

"My wife," he whispered. _Ktahwáanun_. I am yours forever, and you are mine."

"Yes. _Yes._ Always, _mo chridhe_ _."_ She kissed him again briefly, her tears of joy touching his skin. Another cheer sounded as they turned to face their guests with resplendent smiles, radiating the happiness they both felt to the depths of their souls.

* * *

The rest of the afternoon was spent in celebration with their guests. Nathaniel, Chingachgook and Alasdair had gone hunting in the days before, so there was plenty of venison and wild turkey along with squash, beans, apple pies from Jack and his wife Abigail, and various other dishes brought by friends from neighboring farms. Cora could not remember the last time she had felt so happy. The absence of her father and Alice stung, of course, but she hoped they looked down on this day and knew the joy they felt, and she hoped that Uncas did as well.

"Eugenie seems to be getting on all right, but I don't know if Giles will survive this," Nathaniel whispered in her ear in a rare moment when they weren't occupied with guests, using the opportunity to feather a kiss just below on her neck. Cora followed Nathaniel's gaze to where her cousin stood, making awkward small talk with Ongewasgone and his wife. Giles stood beside her, nervously eyeing the tomahawk and large knife hanging from Ongewasgone's belt, and looking as if he would rather be anywhere else on earth. Chingachgook approached them, greeting his Mohawk friends and pointedly standing next to Giles with Ongewasgone, both of them looking quite formidable together.

"Poor Giles," she giggled. He's terrified of them. It's ridiculous. Perhaps this will be good for him, I've always thought he could stand to be more worldly. Your father seems to be amused by it, in any case."

"Yes, he seems to be enjoying himself over there." Nathaniel chuckled, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. "And I'm enjoying myself over here. With my wife."

Cora smiled. "My husband," she murmured, touching his cheek. "I thought this day would never arrive."

"You look so beautiful, _ndah_. I feel like I must be dreaming."

Nathaniel brushed a soft kiss over her lips. Soon they were surrounded again by guests, talking and laughing with friends, watching the children run and play around them. As the sun began to hang lower in the west, the guests from neighboring farms began to head home, leaving the couple with hugs, handshakes and well-wishes for their future together. As dusk approached, Chingachgook stood before his son and his bride, their remaining friends and family looking on as he spoke to them.

"My wife and I took Nathaniel as our own son when he was very small, and I have raised him as my own. He is a man now, well-known to all in this place as a fine hunter, a brave warrior, and a loyal friend. His mother would be proud, as I am proud to call him son, as Uncas called him brother. Now he walks a new path in life with his wife at his side, and I am proud to call her daughter as well, for she is a courageous and worthy woman. My son, my daughter, I wish you both much happiness."

He embraced Nathaniel and then Cora, who kissed his cheek and whispered to him in Mohican, " _I am honored to call you father, and I thank you for the gift of your son."_ He beamed at her, tears in his eyes, and patted her cheek.

Nathaniel took her hand and stood beside her.

"We wish to thank everyone for sharing this day with us," Cora began. "My father's cousin and her husband have come all the way from Boston, and were very helpful in arranging the ceremony. Many of you have traveled to be here with us, and we are so glad to have you with us."

"Indeed we are," Nathaniel continued. We are lucky to be amongst so many loyal friends. It has been my pleasure these many years to know each of you, and we owe much to Ian and Sarah, who have given us a home with them these last two months. We are eternally grateful for your kindness during a time of grief, and I hope that someday we can do as much for you as you have done for us."

"Thank you again, all of you, for being here, for everything any of you have done to make this day as wonderful as it has been. I am grateful to have the opportunity to know you all as friends of Nathaniel and his family. I have seen that my husband is loved and respected here, and he is a man very much worthy of that to me as well." She looked up at him, her brown eyes luminous and swimming with tears. "From the first moment we met, you saved me. You have saved my life on several counts, but you have also loved me, shared my sorrow, and given me hope. You have saved me, Nathaniel, body and soul, and in my lifetime I can never love you enough for that."

"I would do it again, take every risk a thousand times more, knowing it would bring you to me." He gazed at her, frozen in time as the people around them reacted with joy.

"Huzzah!" Ian hollered. "To Nathaniel and Cora, a long and happy life!" Everyone clapped and cheered.

"Kiss her, Nathaniel!" Jack yelled, making them all laugh and bringing Nathaniel back to earth.

Grinning broadly, he pulled a blushing Cora into his arms, kissing her thoroughly amid whistles and catcalls.

"Oh for heaven's sake," Giles muttered, "have they no shame at all?"

Eugenie rolled her eyes. "Oh, Giles, come off it. Don't be such a prude." She swatted his shoulder with her fan and slyly reached around and pinched his backside, smiling in satisfaction as he turned beet red and looked incredulously at her. "Take a lesson from Mr. Poe, dear. We're old, but we're not dead." She winked and left him standing there in disbelief.

Cora's pulse raced as she kissed Nathaniel back, both of them oblivious to the world around them. He broke away, pressing his cheek to hers.

"I would very much like to be alone with my wife now," he whispered in her ear. She inhaled, feeling a flush suffuse her skin as she closed her eyes and nuzzled her cheek against his.

"Yes. I don't want to wait any longer either," she breathed. Without another word, Nathaniel leaned down and lifted his bride up into his arms as more cheering erupted, and set off to the cabin, both of them laughing, Cora's arms wrapped around his neck.

* * *

When they arrived, he opened the door and carried her inside, kicking the door shut behind them and setting her down near the table by the fireplace, where she stood as he lit their first fire. When the flames had caught and the wood began to burn, he rose and came to her, taking her hand in his, the firelight casting its warm glow across them. He lifted his other hand and gently ran his fingers down the side of her face and along her jaw, tipping her chin up as her dark eyes met his. They turned liquid with heat as he stroked the pad of his thumb across the petal-soft fullness of her lower lip. He watched the rise and fall of her chest as her breath quickened, and continued his slow caress down her chin, her throat, across her collarbone, tracing a delicate path along the neckline of her gown and feeling her heartbeat thrumming against her chest when he touched her there. His body pulsed with a need he was sure he had never felt in all his life, and this time there would be no stopping. This time he could worship every inch of her in the hundreds of ways he had imagined since the first moment he had wanted her. He slowly unfastened the silk buttons down the front of her dress and moved the fabric aside, exposing her stays and the lace-edged silk shift beneath them. His hands splayed at her waist, sliding upward over the stiff garment to push the gown off her shoulders and down her arms. As it fell to the floor in a whisper, his fingers brushed along the swell of her breasts above her stays. Her eyes closed, her head falling back as she trembled at his touch. He circled behind her, grazing along her skin, never breaking contact, watching the shadows from the firelight play over her. He picked up her gown, draping it over the table behind him so that he could stand close to her as he removed her jewelry. Untying the choker, he leaned down to feather a kiss on the back of her neck, continuing down her spine between her shoulders, alternating caresses with his lips and tongue. She smelled like a hint of lavender, combined with what was simply _her_ , and she was as smooth as silken velvet.

"So soft…" he murmured. "I want to know if you're this soft everywhere." Reveling in her sharp intake of breath, he released the fastening of her petticoat and began to pull the laces from her stays one by one. When he finished, she stepped out of the petticoat and he tossed it and her stays onto the table with her dress, coming around to her front again. His eyes raked over her, wearing nothing now but her stockings and garters, moccasins, and her fragile silk shift. He could see the hint of her body beneath it; the curve of her hip, the shadow at the apex of her thighs, the darker peaks of her nipples straining against the fabric barrier with each shallow breath as her skin flushed pink – just enough to send another jolt of longing through him, aching to see her, to touch her, to bring her body to life under his hands.

He reached up and slowly, deliberately, took the pins from her hair, releasing it to tumble down her back and over her shoulders in a riot of waves and curls. He threaded his fingers into it, tipping her head back, his mouth hovering bare millimeters from hers as his thumbs stroked the delicate skin of her throat. A soft moan broke from her parted lips, her breathing coming in gasps. Every part of her clamored for more of him, aching to touch, to be touched, feeling the pulse of desire and the wet heat spreading between her thighs. His slow, torturous caresses were agonizing when she wanted more than anything to feel him against her.

"Nathaniel…" she breathed. His lips curved in a slow, satisfied smile as he recalled having wanted to wait for this night, to take his time with her and draw his name from her lips repeatedly. _At last_ , he thought as he claimed her mouth, hard, fierce, hungry, his tongue meeting hers, full of sensual promise. His hands moved down her back, pressing her close, feeling the heat of her skin through the shift. His palm smoothed over the curve of her hip, over her stomach, cupping her breast through the silk, his fingers lightly brushing, teasing the nipple to a hard peak as she moaned against his mouth and arched into him. He loved seeing, feeling, hearing the way she responded to him. His other hand moved to the small of her back, flattening her against him so she could feel him hard against her beneath his clothing.

"This is what you do to me," he whispered, his breathing ragged. "For so long…I've wanted this…wanted you. Can you feel how much I want you?"

" _Yes_ ," she exhaled a trembling sigh and dragged her hands down the front of his shirt, desperate to feel all of him. "I want to touch you," she murmured. She untied his belt and let it drop, his shirt falling open down the front, and slid her hands up his bare chest under the fabric, pushing it aside until it fell to the floor with his belt. She ran her palms over the planes of hard muscle and smooth skin, utterly glorious to her as she gazed in wonder everywhere her hands went. He was beautiful. He was _hers_. She pressed closer, her fingers caressing the swell of muscle at his shoulders and down his arms, tracing over the lines tattooed there. Her fingers laced with his, and she leaned into him, nuzzling the hollow of his throat, then touching her lips there, feeling his racing pulse as his breathing quickened. She kissed the hawk tattoos on each side of his chest, then the scar on the left from where she had sutured the cut. When she ran her tongue over it, he inhaled sharply and groaned, burying his face against her neck, and she felt a glowing sense of enjoyment at knowing his restraint was fraying with each caress.

Nathaniel released Cora's hands and pulled her against him, grasping the thick softness of her hair to tug her head back and expose the soft, creamy skin of her throat. His mouth blazed a trail from beneath her jaw downward, his teeth gently scraping her sensitive flesh. She moaned as his tongue circled her nipples, leaving the delicate silk wet there. He knelt in front of her, lifting her feet one at a time to remove her moccasins and untie her garters, peeling her stockings off slowly, following their wake with his lips. He rose, his hands sliding up her thighs and under the hem of her shift to cup her backside, trailing over her hips, splaying on her abdomen. He nipped her lower lip with his teeth, then followed with a caress of his tongue before she darted hers forward to meet it, their mouths melding. Her hand spread over the muscular indentation of his buttock exposed at the open side of his breechclout, her thumb gliding over his hip as her hand stole beneath the front apron and cupped his erection through the fabric. She stroked him tentatively, and he growled, deepening the kiss to an almost brutal intensity. His fingers grazed downward over her belly and between her legs, sliding along the soft, slick wetness he found there. Her breath hitched, a low keen of pleasure escaping as she arched and melted against him.

" _Nathaniel_ ," she moaned softly. His body thrummed with simultaneous gratification and intense need. He forced himself to break away from her long enough to shed the remainder of his clothing.

Cora stared in silent rapture at her husband, naked before her in all his glory. He was all long, lean, rippling muscle, the thick column of his erection standing firm between his thighs as she took in every blessed inch of him. _Dear bloody God_ , he was magnificent to look at. He grasped the hem of her shift and the silk whispered over her skin as he pulled it over her head and let it fall to the floor. His luminous green gaze blazed over her; her long, slim legs, the lush curve of her hips, the svelte softness of her belly, the creamy, rounded fullness of her breasts and the deep pink of her nipples. So very divine, so breathtaking, and she was his. She stepped forward, eyes molten amber with desire, and lightly scraped her fingertips down his stomach, wrapping them around him and softly stroking the velvety-smooth hardness as she brushed her lips across his. All of his resolve crumbled at last. With a tortured groan, he covered her mouth with his, his arms crushing her to him, skin to skin at last and rejoicing in the feel of all that warm softness against him. He lifted her off the floor, her legs winding around his hips as he took her to the bed. He felt unable to breathe, unable to think, unable to do anything but feel her wrapped around him as he lowered them both to the mattress.

His mouth left hers, trailing down her body, his hair brushing teasingly over her sensitized skin as he went. His tongue flicked over the swell of her breasts, laved across each nipple as her breath became short pants. He continued down her abdomen, placing soft kisses at the crest of each hip, nibbling the soft, tender skin of her inner thigh, her calf, her ankle, ending at the arch of her foot.

"You _are_ that soft everywhere," he marveled, moving to the other side and traveling back up the opposite leg. "And here," he whispered as he reached the curls at her center, parting her legs slightly and placing a feather-light kiss there, his hands stroking her thighs. She cried out softly at the intimate contact. He dipped his head once more and ran his tongue between the delicate, wet folds, lingering at the sensitive nub of flesh near the top.

"Oh, _God!_ _Nathaniel!_ " she cried, her breath a ragged sob, her head falling back. He continued. She writhed in pleasure, completely lost to it, unable to do anything but let it course through her; she had never known that such intense pleasure was even possible. The white-hot tension of it coiled tighter and tighter, tingling at the base of her spine and taking her closer and closer to the edge of some unknown precipice with each languid stroke of his tongue. One final time, and the world shattered behind her eyelids in an explosion of light and wave after wave of undulating release as she arched beneath him, crying out in breathless abandon.

Nathaniel's entire body thrummed with anticipation as he feathered gentle, reverent kisses back up Cora's trembling body. Angling himself slightly above her, he touched his lips to the wild pulse beneath her jaw, then gazed down at her as she stroked his face and twined her fingers into his hair, her eyes glassy with passion. He slanted his mouth over hers.

"I burn for you, _ndah_ ," he whispered between kisses. "There are no other words for what you do to me." She sighed raggedly, parting her legs as he settled between them, the hard weight of his erection resting against her where she was wet with need for him. She arched her hips upward, aching to fill this unknown emptiness.

" _Please, Nathaniel…_ " she panted as she felt the tip of him at her entrance. He kissed her once more and sheathed himself in her slick, tight heat with one swift motion. She tensed and cried out in pain with the rending of her maidenhead, and he stilled, waiting as she adjusted to the feeling of him inside her, his lips moving tenderly against hers. After a moment, her arms wound around his shoulders and she kissed him back as she relaxed and wrapped her legs around his hips. He began to move with slow, tentative thrusts, and she moved with him. He groaned in pleasure, the feel of her body all around him taking his breath away as they found their rhythm together, each movement bringing a tenuous quickening of ecstasy that took them higher and higher. He had wanted this, imagined it thousands upon thousands of times, but nothing he had imagined could ever compare to the reality. She moaned against his lips as he began to move faster, harder. Her hands raked down his back, her fingers grasping for purchase on his skin. He felt her begin to climax, her muscles contracting around him in waves that pulled him to the edge as he watched her come apart beneath him, his name leaving her lips once more with a helpless, impassioned cry, and he thought he had never seen anything so beautiful in all his life. Another moment and he spiraled into his own release, his body quaking as an explosion of heat obliterated every sense but the feel of her all around him as he, too, cried out her name, collapsing into her arms. The waves subsided, leaving them wrapped around each other in their wake.

Rolling to his side, Nathaniel drew Cora to him, pressing his lips to hers as she draped her arm over him, her fingertips tracing his shoulder blade.

"This is more wondrous than any imagining could possibly have been. You make me feel as though every part of me is on fire," she whispered. "I love you, Nathaniel. You are the stars in my sky." She nestled her body against his, caressing his face with a soft sigh as he stroked her hair, his other arm twining around her waist.

"I've felt the same, all this time…You are so beautiful, Cora. My wife…mine forever, and I am yours. I will burn for you always." He kissed her slowly, tenderly, breathing her in. They lay together in the glow of the ebbing firelight, trading gentle caresses and soft whispers as they drifted into sleep, curled around each other in a tangle of limbs, never wanting to let go.

_"I want to see you._

_Know your voice._

_Recognize you when you first come 'round the corner._

_Sense your scent when I come into a room you've just left._

_Know the lift of your heel, the glide of your foot._

_Become familiar with the way_

_You purse your lips_

_Then let them part_

_Just the slightest bit,_

_When I lean into your space_

_And kiss you._

_I want to know the joy_

_Of how you whisper_

_'More'"_

_-Rumi-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:
> 
> Well, at long last, Nathaniel and Cora are married! The majority of the minister's lines are directly from a Church of England wedding script that has been in use since the 16th century. I added the "you stand in my soul, etc." part because I loved it when I thought of it, and it made their vows more personal and more applicable to Nathaniel's side of things. I'm pretty happy with how the wedding came out, and I hope you all are, too, and that I didn't make you gag too much with the sweet speeches after the ceremony. I also just had to add some humor in there with Giles and Eugenie around, so having Chingachgook and Ongewasgone mess with him a little was fun, and I thought Giles could really use that goosing toward the end. ;)
> 
> As for the wedding night…well…I don't think I need to say too much there. It was honestly challenging to write, and I really had a harder time than I initially thought I would. I hit 'cut' and 'delete' more than I think I ever have, but I am personally very happy with how it finally turned out. I really wanted to spin their wedding night off of that part in Chapter 1, when Nathaniel thought that he wanted to wait to make love to Cora because "he wanted to take his time with her somewhere soft and worship her, drawing his name from her lips as many times as he could." I feel that concept played out pretty well here, and I hope I'm right. 
> 
> As always, thank you for continuing to read, and thank you so much for all the helpful reviews. I truly appreciate the feedback I get from readers, and it has helped me make improvements more than once. The next chapter may take a little longer to post - I start another 5 week class for my accelerated Bachelor of Nursing program this week, which eats a lot of my "free" time, plus my toddler and I are both sick again for the second time in the last few weeks, and I'm feeling pretty done for, and I'm still kind of coming down from a weird grief plateau. I mentioned in my Chapter 4 note that I was traveling for a funeral. 15 years ago my best friend was killed when a drunk driver hit my car on the highway while I was driving him and his brother home. It was bad. I have remained close to his family, and very close to his mom and dad, who have been like another set of parents to me. His mom passed away suddenly just two days after the 15 year anniversary of his death, which is usually a weird enough time of year for me anyway, and this just came like a freight train. I was glad to have the distraction of writing this story, actually, because it gave me something to focus on, and characters to give some of this sadness to. I feel like I'm coping ok for the most part. She was older, and I can't be sorry she's with her baby again, but anyone who has grieved knows that it is much more complicated than that, and there is 15 years of all of this wrapped up in it, so sometimes it is just a chaotic lump and it's hard to sort out. At any rate, I think I need to be gentler and less demanding of myself right now. Getting sick twice tells me I'm not, and that my body and brain need some time. My goal is to update within 2 weeks, and I hope I can. Please stay tuned!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of morning-after wedding bliss, and a very interesting supply run to Albany leads to meeting friends old and new.

**Chapter 7**

_"_ _Your love lifts my soul from the body to the sky_

_And you lift me up out of the two worlds._

_I want your Sun to reach my raindrops,_

_So your heat can raise my soul upward like a cloud."_

_-Rumi-_

**Fair Warning: There is explicit sexual content in this chapter.**

As the grey light of dawn began to seep into the cabin, Cora stirred and slowly opened her eyes, feeling the warm, solid heat of Nathaniel pressed against her bare back. She stretched with a soft, contented smile. They had fallen asleep together after the first time they had made love the night before. Several hours later, moonlight slanting across the room through the gaps in the window curtains, he had gently roused her, brushing kisses over her face and lips as he murmured endearments in English and Mohican. He had made love to her again with painstaking, worshipful attention, and her skin now tingled pleasantly at the memory of it. She rose carefully from the bed, not wanting to wake Nathaniel, and slipped on his shirt to ward off the chilly air in the room. She gazed down at her peacefully slumbering husband in the dim light. The bedsheet and blanket pooled around his waist, exposing the sleek musculature of his torso, and one arm was flung out beside his head. His long, wavy hair was spread artlessly around his handsome face, the dark shadow of a beard on his jaw highlighting his finely chiseled features and the firm line of his lips. _Lord love him, he's just as beautiful asleep as he is awake_ , she thought, her lips curving in an appreciative smile. She padded across the room to the window, lifting the covering slightly to peek outside. The sun was beginning to come up over the trees to the east, birds heralding its rise with their varied songs. She watched the far-off silhouette of someone – probably Aidan – headed toward the barn. Normally Cora would be there, but Sarah had told her and Nathaniel in no uncertain terms that they were to take a few days to honeymoon and not worry about the work they normally did. They would have to come out at some point, to eat and to say goodbye to guests who would head home today…but not yet. She turned away from the window and saw that Nathaniel was now awake, propped up on one elbow and staring sleepily at her with adoration in his eyes and a charmingly lopsided grin on his face.

"You're wearing my shirt," he stated, taking her in from head to toe. Her hair was a glorious tangle of waves around her face. Her body wrapped in his shirt did wicked things to his equilibrium, remembering the sight - and the feel - of what lay between the hem that hit just above her knees, and the neckline which her hand currently held closed. Her lithe legs curved gracefully, disappearing beneath the fabric that covered her. Heat suffused him, his body responding to memories of the night before.

"I am." The corners of her lips lifted. "It's a little chilly in here."

"Then come back to bed. I'll keep you warm." He cocked an inviting brow at her.

She crossed the room slowly, sitting down on the mattress beside him, drawing her legs up and extending them to the side. She had let go of the shirt's front, which now hung partially open, displaying the vast majority of one thigh, part of a hip, and a very tempting strip of creamy skin down the middle. Desire blazed to life in his gaze as it trailed over her and met her eyes at the finish, his pulse kicking up.

"Come here," he said softly, sitting up and reaching out for her. She smiled and rose onto her knees, throwing one leg over him to straddle his lap, her fingers weaving into his tousled hair. She leaned down and darted her tongue over his lips playfully. With a low growl, he captured her mouth as his hands pushed the bedding away, then spread over her thighs and slid upward, cupping her backside and pulling her hips down to his. He placed a trail of kisses down her neck, the rough growth of beard on his face rasping deliciously over her skin where the shirt lay open. Nudging the fabric aside to expose her breast, he took her nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking over it with slow, deliberate strokes, relishing her quiet moan of pleasure as her head tilted back, her hair falling over his arm as he wrapped it around her waist to anchor her. He moved to the other breast, sending yet another flaming bolt of desire spreading through her. She rocked her hips over his, feeling him growing harder beneath her, one hand still in his hair, the other roaming over his shoulders, her fingernails lightly scraping his skin. He slid one hand over her hip, the pad of his thumb stroking her slick center. She cried out, her hips bucking forward, her wetness gliding over his erection.

" _Nathaniel_ ," she moaned, her body feeling boneless, quivering with heady anticipation. Her head dipped forward and she placed fevered kisses over his neck, gently biting the swell of muscle at the juncture of his shoulder. He groaned, kissing her throat, her chin, her lips.

"I want you," he said against her mouth, the feel of her wet heat sliding against him driving him to near madness. "I _need you._ Now…" She nodded, breathless, and he guided her hips above him as he aligned himself with her. She sank onto him, her head tilting back with a tremulous exhale as she enveloped him with her body until he was buried to the hilt inside her. His arms wrapped around her, holding her to him as he pressed his face against her neck. "Cora…you feel so damned good," he groaned.

Her fingers dug into his hair again, bringing his face to hers and kissing him, their tongues meeting in a sensual tangle as she began to move against him. He met her with slow, deep thrusts, letting the friction build, gathering the nebulous haze of need within them into a fierce, tangible thundercloud. His hands slipped beneath the shirt, stroking down her white-velvet skin, cupping her breasts, sliding around her waist and down over her hips as their movements grew more intense. Blinding pleasure washed over them, the storm of it building to a roar within, and he could no longer sense where he ended and she began.

" _Mine_ ," he whispered with an upward surge that sent an exquisite shockwave sweeping through her core.

" _Yes_ ," she moaned with a ragged breath, her arms locked beneath his, hands grasping his shoulder blades as they spiraled closer to the edge of reason. As the rolling swell of ecstasy began to take them both, a keen of rapture tore from her throat, the world disappearing in a flash of overpowering release as he followed her into it with an incoherent cry.

Nathaniel fell back onto the mattress, taking Cora with him, both of them quaking and gasping for breath, hearts pounding against one another. Her hands stroked his hairline and she rained soft kisses over his face, her hair falling in a curtain around them.

"I adore you," she murmured, her breath still quick, her thighs trembling against his. He caught her lips with his, gently running his hand up and down her spine.

"Mmmm. I adore you too, _aholkwësit._ You in my arms is better than all my dreams." She settled against his side, her leg twined around his. Her fingertips traced the lines on his forearm and the row of dots and double lines around his wrist, then moved softly over the back of his sun-browned hand on her pale abdomen, his roughened knuckles, his long, slim fingers. So graceful, so capable, and so powerful.

"You have the most beautiful hands," she whispered, turning it to graze lazy circles over the work-calloused palm, then bringing it to her lips and placing a kiss there. He brought the hand to her face, his thumb stroking a soft caress beneath her eye and over her cheekbone.

"I have the most beautiful _wife_." He smiled as her cheeks flushed, and kissed her lips. She sighed contentedly, her dark eyes soft as she gazed at him in the burgeoning light of morning.

"I wish we could stay here forever," she said wistfully, "but I fear if we don't get up soon we might starve, because I can't stop touching you."

Nathaniel laughed aloud, his arms circling around her. "You may be right – I seem to have the same problem. And we have guests to see off…" He pulled the shirt aside and kissed the cap of her shoulder. "But perhaps…" He kissed her collarbone. "Just a few more moments…" He nuzzled her neck as she giggled softly.

"No harm in just a few more moments," she agreed with a sly smile, kissing beneath his jaw.

* * *

_October 18, 1757_

Cora and Nathaniel were settling well into married life together. They had bid goodbye to their guests the morning after their wedding, Cora promising to write to Eugenie whenever she could manage to post a letter. She and Nathaniel had had a discussion with Giles, and had asked him to see to the sale of the house in Portman Square. Cora would not be returning to England, so it felt silly to keep an empty house when she could sell it and put the money to good use here when they settled land and built their own home. Chingachgook had moved from the cabin to the farmhouse to allow them their privacy, which they took full advantage of as often as they were not completely exhausted from the day's work. They both enjoyed the nights together, even when they just spent the time idle, lying curled up together and talking or laughing until they fell asleep, or comforting one another if it had been the kind of day that brought too many memories. On this particular morning, Nathaniel and Cora rose just before dawn. They were both a little tired, having spent a significant stretch of the previous evening discovering new ways to drive each other mad with desire – followed by several bouts of quenching said desire. They dressed in the dim light of the encroaching sunrise and left the small cabin hand in hand.

"Good morning!" Sarah smiled as they entered the kitchen through the back door, stoking the fire under the large iron pot hanging from its crane. She crossed over to greet them, kissing Nathaniel's cheek and giving Cora a hug. "Nathaniel, your father's down at the barn, he went with Aidan. Did you both sleep well?"

"Ah…Yes. Very well." Cora blushed. Nathaniel pretended to see something interesting out the window, his lips twitching with a repressed grin.

"I'll…uh…go and see if my father needs help." He gave Cora a lingering kiss and went in search of Chingachgook. She stared after him, a soft smile on her face.

"I thought you two were lovestruck _before_ you were married," Sarah chuckled. "You both look sly as foxes this morning…been up to a bit more than sleep, eh?" She patted Cora's flaming cheek. "Good. You both deserve it. Off to Albany today, are you?"

"Yes, we'll be leaving just after breakfast, and we should be back by this evening, hopefully before sunset."

Cora helped Sarah finish preparing breakfast. Nathaniel, Chingachgook and Aidan came back in from the barn, Aidan hanging upside down over Nathaniel's shoulder, squealing with laughter as the rest of the family came together in the kitchen to eat before dispersing for the day's work ahead. Once they had finished, Nathaniel and Chingachgook went to hitch up the wagon while Sarah fed the now awake Aileen and Cora tidied up. The weather was growing colder, and with the bulk of the harvest season over, it was time to stock a few winter supplies like flour. There were also tools that needed repairs at the blacksmith, and Sarah and Cora both needed fabric for warmer winter clothing; the children were growing out of last year's things, and Cora needed warmer garments. Nathaniel, Cora, and Chingachgook had volunteered to make this trip to Albany so that Ian could stay behind with Alasdair and get the fallow plowing finished. Cora and Sarah and the children had been busy for weeks preserving vegetables and drying herbs while the last of the dry corn was harvested, and the men had begun salting and smoking meat as the hunts brought it in. Soon it would be time for the three of them to bid farewell to the MacKays and depart south to the Munsee Delaware village where Nathaniel's family had spent many winters.

Within the hour they were on their way. The day was overcast and breezy, and the temperature colder than usual. Nathaniel and Chingachgook both wore long buckskin jackets, and Cora was thankful for her wool cloak that Eugenie had put in her trunk. When they arrived, their first stop was at the blacksmith's, since the tool repairs would take the longest. Fortunately, he informed them that he would be able to repair them by the end of the afternoon so that they could return to the farm with them and not have to make a return trip. From there they went to a cloth merchant for heavy cotton flannel and wool for winter clothing and undergarments, as well as sewing thread. Cora looked over the thread thoughtfully.

"Did you find what you need, _ndah_?" Nathaniel said from behind her, touching her shoulder.

"Hmmm? Oh, yes, I did. I was just thinking…perhaps I should get a spool of gut or silk. My medical supplies are so meager, and I worry I may have need of them and be without."

"It's a sound idea. What else would you have need of?"

"Well, if I were putting together a decent supply I would want a few suture needles, muslin for bandages, grain alcohol or brandy, perhaps medicinal herbs or tinctures if I could come by them – there should be an apothecary here."

"Get what you can here. We'll inquire about where to get the rest."

"Are you sure we ought to incur the expense?"

"It isn't a luxury, but a necessity. We will be traveling soon, and as you say, it would not do to be without if you need them, so that settles it." He kissed her forehead.

They left the cloth merchant with the clothing materials, as well as a length of muslin, gut and silk threads, and a package of straight and curved triangular-tipped glover's needles. At Nathaniel's inquiry, the merchant had directed them to an apothecary down at the end of the main road, so they headed there next. Nathaniel helped Cora down from the wagon, and the three of them approached the door, bearing a sign that read _Williams Drug and Chemical Store_. As Nathaniel reached to open it, a man's astounded voice spoke up from behind them.

"Miss Cora Munro, is that really you?" Cora froze, heart pounding. She knew that voice, though she had never expected to hear it again as long as she lived. She turned slowly, thinking surely she must be imagining things. There stood a tall man with craggy features, his queued light brown hair slightly peppered with grey, and keen grey eyes wide with disbelief as if he were seeing a ghost. He supported his weight with a cane on his left side. The breath left Cora's body in a rush.

"Mr. Phelps?" she croaked.

"Blood and thunder, lass, it _is_ you!" He stepped forward with a pronounced limp he had not had before. Cora ran to him, abandoning all propriety at the sight of her dear friend and mentor, throwing her arms around him and sobbing.

"I thought you dead," she cried. "I could not imagine who would have survived when we were attacked!"

"I thought the same of you," he replied, holding her out to look at her. "There was no sign of you or Alice anywhere, and your father was…" Cora shook her head, her cheeks wet with tears.

"Papa is here, buried in the churchyard. Alice and I were able to get away with Major Heyward, thanks to Nathaniel and his family. We lost Duncan a day later, then Alice and Nathaniel's brother Uncas."

Mr. Phelps's eyes filled with tears. "Oh, no. Oh, poor, sweet Alice. Miss Cora, I cannot express my sorrow for such losses. But how did you come to be here today? Where have you been all this time?"

"We've been with friends of Nathaniel's, a farm west of here. We've come today for supplies." Cora stepped back to Nathaniel and took his arm. "Mr. Phelps, you remember Nathaniel Poe, and his father Chingachgook, do you not?"

"That I do," he replied, "and I am sorry for your loss as well. How are you, Mr. Poe, Chingachgook?"

"Well, thank you, sir," Nathaniel answered. Phelps shook his hand, then Chingachgook's.

"You have a habit of rescuing our dear Cora, it would seem." He smiled warmly. "Thank you both. It is a joy to see her alive and well."

"Keeping Cora safe and sound will be a lifelong undertaking from here on out, and one I'm more than happy to carry out, but hopefully we'll have no more troubles of that kind." Nathaniel took Cora's hand in his. Mr. Phelps looked slightly confused.

"Nathaniel and I were married almost two weeks ago, Mr. Phelps," Cora explained. He laughed, now understanding what Nathaniel meant.

"As I live and breathe, that's happy news at least, Miss Cora! Congratulations to you both."

"Thank you," she replied, "it is wonderful to see you, and you must tell me what has transpired for you since I last saw you – but are we keeping you from an errand? I am only in need of some medical supplies here."

"Only a few things I need from Mr. Williams as well." He gestured at the apothecary's door. "Shall we take care of our business here and perhaps sit down somewhere and talk? If you all have the time, that is."

Nathaniel nodded at Cora after a brief exchange with Chingachgook, then looked to Mr. Phelps. "We'll have some supplies to purchase yet after we are done here, but we are also waiting on repairs from the blacksmith, so we will have some idle time. We'd be happy to spend it with you, Mr. Phelps. I'm sure you and Cora will both have much to apprise one another of."

After completing their errand, Cora had a decent stock of dry medicinal plants that didn't already grow in Sarah's herb garden or in the forest near the farm; chickweed for wound washes, congestion and fevers, dogwood bark for fevers, which was Chingachgook's suggestion, lemon balm, and several others. She also procured grain alcohol for cleaning wounds and making herbal tinctures. They left the apothecary and at Mr. Phelps's suggestion, went to a tavern just down the road where they could sit down and talk while they had something to eat. When they were situated at a table, he began to tell them what had befallen him. During the massacre his horse had been shot from under him and the fall had pinned him beneath it, breaking his left leg rather badly, and he had been knocked unconscious. Mostly hidden by the horse's body, he had escaped being scalped, and had come to when surviving soldiers had found him when it was over. He had been brought back to Albany with other surviving wounded and the bodies of the officers who were to be buried in the churchyard. His fracture was healing, but he would not walk normally again and would no longer be fit for the rigors of military service, so he planned to establish himself as a physician in Albany. Cora then told her friend what had happened to their group from the fort massacre on, how the three of them had come to be at the MacKays' farm, and the wedding nearly two weeks past.

"I wish I had known you were here when we met with my cousin last month," Cora said regretfully. "We could have invited you to the wedding. It would have been lovely to have you there."

"The travel might not have agreed well with my injury, but in any case I am happy for you, lass, that you've found some happiness amidst all of these harrowing events." He chuckled and winked at Nathaniel. "I knew this one had eyes for you from the start. Rather confounded by you, he was. You didna' hide it well, lad."

Nathaniel glanced to the side, one corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smile as he remembered his short conversation with Mr. Phelps about Cora that first night at the fort. "I suppose I wasn't aiming to, sir. I was far too awestruck by a precocious, beautiful girl who feared nothing and had an aptitude for medicine."

Mr. Phelps laughed. "Well, then, it's enough for me that she's found herself a man who appreciates what I know to be her best qualities! I'm pleased as anything that you'll keep up with practice, Miss Cora. If there is ever any help or knowledge I can impart, you'll find me here if you stay around Albany."

"That's wonderful of you, and you've already taught me so much. We will be spending the winter south of here with the Delaware, but may return here in the spring unless we decide to settle elsewhere. If we do, we will surely see you again then." They continued their conversation, Mr. Phelps engaging Chingachgook about their winter plans. A short time later, a group of men took the table nearest theirs. One of them was a rather distinguished-looking, finely dressed man of about forty years, with dark hair and eyes. He was accompanied by two British officers and three Mohawk men. They conversed animatedly as they sat down, and the four visitors grew quiet in the wake of this new party's arrival. Mr. Phelps leaned across to Nathaniel and Chingachgook.

"I believe that is Sir William Johnson," he whispered. "British Superintendent of Indian Affairs for the northern colonies, among other duties. He held the rank of Major General until last December. He built Fort William Henry, you know."

"We have heard of this man before," Chingachgook said. "His estate is among the Mohawk on the Hudson, Chief Joseph Brant's people, but he keeps a house here. I have heard that Brant's sister is his common-law wife."

The man in question spoke to one of the Mohawk men in their language, then switched to English, speaking to the officers. Cora could hear pieces of the conversation behind her, and her ears perked with interest.

"Not sure about the interim…heard rumblings about bringing Abercrombie here…Webb's been recalled…bloody incompetent coward…relieved of duty after that debacle at William Henry…"

Cora's wide eyes met Nathaniel's for a moment, and before he could say anything to her, she whipped around on her seat and stood up to face the men.

"Pardon me, sirs," she said with a brief curtsey, "I do apologize for the interruption, but I could not help but overhear your discussion regarding General Webb and Fort William Henry. Did you say that General Webb has been removed from his post?"

The man assumed to be William Johnson stared at her, looking baffled and slightly annoyed at her audacity. "And who are you that it is any of your concern, madam?" He questioned sharply.

"I am Cora Poe, nee Munro. I am the eldest daughter of Lieutenant Colonel George Edmund Munro, who commanded British forces at Fort William Henry and was murdered in the massacre after its surrender. That is who I am, sir." She drew herself up straight and unflinchingly held Johnson's gaze. She was suddenly happy she had opted to wear one of her nicer dresses out of the trunk today due to the cold.

Nathaniel stood silently at his wife's side as her response sunk in with the man she was brazenly staring down. She was nothing if not direct, and he wasn't sure at this moment if he should be proud of her or afraid for her, but pride was quickly winning out because Johnson looked too shocked to be angry. He recovered and bowed stiffly.

"Sir William Johnson, First Baronet, Superintendent of Indian Affairs. I was made to understand that both of Munro's daughters were dead, or at least captured and lost."

"Some of that is true, and my sister did not survive the ordeal, but I am very much alive, not for lack of effort from the Huron. Not long after it happened I came to Albany and spoke to a Lieutenant Potts at the Army office – it was he who informed me that my father was buried in the churchyard here. I have not widely advertised my presence in the area for a number of reasons, but mostly because there is almost no one left alive who would care. I wished only to grieve my family and move forward into a new life." She turned to her companions. "Sir William, my husband, Nathaniel Poe, and his father, Chingachgook of the Mohican people. I owe the debt of my life to them, and to Chingachgook's son Uncas, who died attempting to rescue my sister."

Johnson stepped forward and shook their hands, then addressed Mr. Phelps. "And you are, sir?"

"Owen Phelps, physician and former surgeon to the sixty-second regiment of foot, sir. Miss Cora was a faithful and astute assistant to me for many of the years I served with her father."

"Mr. and Mrs. Poe, I would very much like to talk with you and yours. Will you all join us?" He gestured at his table.

"For a short while, we would be happy to," Nathaniel replied, "I am afraid we will have some errands to complete before it grows too late in the day and we must return to the farm."

"Of course," he replied. As they all took their seats once more, he introduced the rest of his party to them, and inquired of them what had happened at William Henry and after. With a silent plea that he thankfully understood, Cora resigned the telling of that to Nathaniel this time; she frankly did not feel like repeating it for a second time that day, and Nathaniel had seen more of the combat side of things there in any case. At the conclusion, Johnson was tight-lipped, his shrewd, dark eyes hard.

"To answer the original inquiry, you heard correctly, Mrs. Poe. General Webb has been recalled as a result of his failure to support your father during the siege at Fort William Henry. I was present at Fort Edward at the time of those events, and it was, frankly, utterly shameful. I had ready under my command alone more than fifteen hundred militia and Indian allies ready to march to his aid, in addition to Webb's men, but he would not release them. A French deserter falsely spoke of the size of Montcalm's army, and Webb foolishly believed him, choosing to be a coward and a disgrace to the British army by refusing reinforcements. My anger on this matter runs deep. The fort I built has been defeated and razed to the ground, its people attacked and killed or captured, and now to meet the daughter of Munro and hear the tragedy you have endured…from the depths of my heart, I am sorry for what happened. Your father was a stalwart man, one of the best soldiers I ever knew."

"Thank you, sir," Cora said softly. "He would be humbled to hear you praise him so. He was a good man and a faithful British soldier to the end." Nathaniel's fingers curled comfortingly around hers beneath the table, and she squeezed them.

"You are of the Mohican people, sir?" Johnson asked Chingachgook.

"I am," he replied. "All of my people are gone from here now. My son Uncas and I were all that was left of my line after my wife died many years ago, and now it is only myself left. Nathaniel is my adopted son; I raised him as mine after his own family died when he was very small."

"It is true that the Mohican people no longer reside in these parts, however there are small groups of them that are living elsewhere – some not terribly far," Johnson told him. "Forty miles from here, in Stockbridge, there is a Moravian village combined of Delaware and Mohican people who are Christianized, and down in Dutchess County along the Hudson there are bands of Mohican who reside among the Wappinger as well."

This statement brought a rapidfire exchange in Mohican between Chingachgook and Nathaniel, only about half of which Cora understood.

"We have spent winters down that way with the Munsee Delaware, and plan to head there again for the winter soon," Nathaniel said. "A man in your position knows more than most about these things – how vast are their numbers?"

"Not many with the Wappinger – a few hundred at most, and I may overestimate. Small bands have dispersed and are peppered across that area, but there are increasing land disputes between the Wappinger and the white settlers in Dutchess County, so some have departed in the last months. With the close relation and the proximity, you may find a small number of Mohican with your Delaware village."

They continued to talk, Chingachgook and Nathaniel asking Johnson questions, Johnson sharing what he knew, which was more than they had heard from anywhere else of the Mohican, but not a great deal since much of Johnson's time was spent among the Mohawk. Still, it was something, and it seemed to light a fire of hope in Chingachgook to think he might not be completely alone. Soon enough, the time came for them to depart and complete their errands. They bid goodbyes and thanks to Johnson and his companions. Cora left a letter for Eugenie with the tavern-keeper for the next post, and then they drove Mr. Phelps home. Cora bid him a tearful goodbye, promising to visit if they returned in the spring. After purchasing the remaining supplies they had come for, they picked up the repaired tools from the blacksmith and left Albany for the farm. It had turned out to be a much different sort of day than any of them had expected, and they spent most of the trip quietly processing it before they arrived back at the farm to tell Ian and Sarah about it.

That evening, Nathaniel spent a long time alone with his father conversing about what they had learned from Sir William Johnson. Afterward, he went to the cabin where an exhausted Cora had already retired. She had left a candle lit for him, and in the dim light he looked down at her as she slept, her breathing soft and even. The bouncing candlelight cast the shadows of her lashes against her cheeks, and threw a golden glint against her dark hair spread behind her. She had tucked the blanket around herself to stave off the chill in the room. She looked beautiful and strangely vulnerable lying there, and he thought she was such a captivating combination of strength and softness, this woman he loved so wildly. He regretted that she had fallen asleep alone to give him time with his father, but he loved her for understanding when they needed time together. He undressed and blew out the candle, climbing into bed beside his wife and gently drawing her into his embrace. She snuggled against his warmth with a tiny smile.

"I missed you, _mo chridhe_ ," she whispered sleepily. "I'm so glad you're here now."

His arms tightened around her and he kissed her softly. "It's been a long day, hasn't it?"

"Yes. And a strange one…Nathaniel?"

"Hmmm?"

 _"_ _Ktahwáanun_." She curled into him, tucking her head beneath his chin.

 _"_ _Ktahwáanun_." He nuzzled her hair and closed his eyes, letting her settle back into sleep.

_"_ _I love thee to the level of everyday's most quiet need, by sun and candlelight…_

_I love thee with the breath, smile and tears of all my life."_

_-Elizabeth Barrett Browning-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:
> 
> It took me my entire two week deadline to write this chapter! It makes me anxious because I hope it came out the way I wanted it to. I feel like it did. It is a really transitional chapter for Nathaniel, Cora and Chingachgook as they move toward migrating for the winter. I think I'm moving them a little late in the year honestly, but I didn't see any other way to time everything that has gone on with them since they came to Ian and Sarah's, so it is what it is – since I'm running their little world the weather can accommodate them for a couple more weeks! There were times I only wrote maybe four or five sentences between trying to write a paper for class, wrangling a toddler, or just trying to be easier on myself, so I spent a lot of time reading over paragraphs to make sure they made sense and flowed appropriately. After being sick for a month with that horrible bronchitis and then a sinus infection that brought the cough back in full force, I am finally feeling better and the cough is nearly gone.
> 
> Post-wedding bliss is upon our newlyweds, which is clear at the start of the chapter (and they so deserve great sex, heehee), but so are more life changes. The bulk of this chapter is different, and I struggled with it, I really did. I really wanted Cora to see Mr. Phelps again, and I had been planning for some time to have our trio meet Sir William Johnson at some point, I just had to devise a plan for getting both of them into the plot in a way that was believable. Even though there isn't a great deal of Johnson's vast history and influence written into this story, I spent days and days reading about him, as well as the history of the Mohican groups in that area, because I didn't want to just fly by the seat of my pants with this chapter. Getting a good and appropriate knowledge base to support this chapter was very important to me. Most of the Mohican really had left the Albany area by 1757. Many were in Stockbridge in a Christianized village run by a Moravian missionary, and over time much of their original language and culture was lost because they lived like Europeans. Even they were driven from their village eventually, closer to the Revolutionary War. There were Mohicans among the Wappinger in southern New York (Dutchess county is around modern day Poughkeepsie), and given the proximity of the Munsee Delaware to that area, it is feasible that some Mohican may have also resided among them – I take creative license with that because it is unknown.
> 
> As for Johnson, he was a very central political figure in the northern colonies during the French and Indian War. He emigrated to the colonies to run an estate purchased by his uncle that was in the middle of Mohawk territory. He lived among the Mohawk and learned their language and culture, and he did consort with Molly Brant, the older sister of Chief Joseph Brant. He served a commission as a British Major General until December of 1756, and was instrumental in obtaining and maintaining the Mohawk and other six nations tribes as British allies. In 1756 he was appointed British Superintendent of Indian Affairs for the northern colonies, and in 1757 he really was at Fort Edward with 1500+ men, ready to assist Munro. It was rumored that he was so livid with Webb's decision not to send reinforcements to Fort William Henry that in his rage he stripped naked in front of Webb! That has never been confirmed and I couldn't find anything else about it, but it made me laugh. I could imagine he might be that angry, especially because he had commissioned the construction of that fort in 1755, and its position was quite important. Webb really was recalled to England and relieved of his colonial post over Fort William Henry, as was his superior, Lord Loudoun. General James Abercrombie replaced them both in 1758, but the British still saw little success until Jeffrey Amherst took British command in 1759 and finally turned the tide of the war in the favor of England. Johnson was overall a shrewd businessman, and came out of his career with a great deal of personal gain, including tens of thousands of acres of Indian lands that he purchased. I'm not entirely sure what to think of him as a whole, because much of what he did served his own ends, but I think he was really just a very typical British politician at that time – and one who knew how to get what he wanted.
> 
> Hopefully now that this chapter is ironed out, the future of our heroes will unfold without issue. What will happen next for them? We shall see. Thank you SO much to MohawkWoman for all the back and forth support, idea feedback, and for sharing my utterly ridiculous sense of humor. You're the best! As always, thank you all for reading, and thank you for your reviews, they are always welcome.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A serious discussion takes place about what the future will hold for Nathaniel, Cora, and Chingachgook after they spend the coming winter with the Delaware people.

**Chapter 8**

_"_ _What we are told as children is that people_

_when they walk on the land_

_leave their breath wherever they go._

_So wherever we walk,_

_that particular spot on the earth never forgets us,_

_and when we go back to these places,_

_we know that the people who have lived there_

_are in some way still there,_

_and that we can actually partake_

_of their breath and of their spirit."_

_-Rina Swentzell, Santa Clara Pueblo-_

The next morning at breakfast, Ian, Nathaniel and Chingachgook stayed longer than usual discussing future plans and more of the events of the previous day. Cora and Sarah stayed as well. Nathaniel helped Cora tidy the kitchen while she prepared ahead for the next meal, giving Sarah a rare and welcome opportunity to just sit beside Ian as he bounced Aileen on his knee, Aidan and Maggie wrangling themselves between their parents on the bench.

"What will you do come spring? Still planning to head west and settle in Cantuckee?" Ian asked amid the baby's delighted squeals.

"That's still something we are not decided on," Chingachgook said. "It was easy enough to make those plans before everything became different for us all. Our vision for the future then was not as it is now, as is so often the case with life – we adjust to many things we had not planned for."

"I think it will depend upon a few things," Nathaniel added. "What kind of winter we have, for one. How this war between the French and the English progresses around these parts. Whether or not we could even make such a journey if…there may be a baby to consider by then. At the time we made those plans, I never thought we would need to consider such things. I never thought for a moment then that we would be where we are now."

"Would you consider coming back this way to settle? I confess, it makes me terribly sad to think we'd never see you all again, especially after the last two months," Sarah's voice was wistful. "You're as good as our family now."

"It's true, Nathaniel," Ian replied. "If you think it's safe enough then…God willing it is, for all our sakes, but to have your family nearby would be a happy thing indeed." Nathaniel glanced at his father in a silent exchange, then at Cora. He knew without asking where she stood on the matter.

"I would like that very much," Cora said softly. "I would miss you all terribly as well, and I feel at home here now." She looked back at Nathaniel, her eyes full of so many things; sadness, love, hope. He took her hand in his, their fingers lacing together, and gently squeezed.

"I know it's a decision you cannot make in haste, and perhaps not even one you can make until spring comes, but I'll lay out something for you to consider." Ian handed the fussing baby to Sarah so she could nurse her, and looked gravely at his friends. "Just over the hill, John Cameron's land sits…a good portion cleared already, and going to waste with no one there anymore to work it. I've debated long with myself about even broaching the subject with you, bein' as how you were the ones who found them…but the fact is, I can't see John ever wanting to let all his hard work go to waste in his absence, and if there was ever anyone he'd want…want to pick up in his stead, it would be you."

Ian's voice was low and calm, but his dark eyes betrayed his emotion, and the difficulty he had even speaking of this. John and Alexandria Cameron had been the MacKays' nearest neighbors and closest friends in the time since the Camerons had settled here after their service was up in Virginia. Ian had been near overcome with anger and grief when Nathaniel and his family had brought the news of their violent demise to Fort William Henry. Ian had deserted with Jack and the others because he had been terrified for his own family so close by. Nathaniel had known that then, and Cora had sympathized with the militia then and could empathize now; this was the facet of the very real danger of the war to the frontier families that Munro and Heyward had insisted did not outweigh British interests. This was the facet they had not understood, the facet Nathaniel had nearly been hanged for, because these people _were_ like family to him after all their years hunting and trapping the area, sharing food and company. He and his father and brother knew each family that cleared land, made the effort to know and live in harmony with the native population, fought to survive brutal winters, and worked their fingers to the bone with no one but themselves to bring their family's survival forth from the earth each spring and summer.

Nathaniel found himself at a loss for words over Ian's suggestion. He met Chingachgook's eyes, knowing they would need to discuss this at length before a decision could be made, and the final decision would still involve seeing how the future played out. Cora said nothing, and when he looked at her, she seemed only to be searching his eyes for his reaction, but he had nothing to give her right now. They needed to talk, alone. It was not only his decision to make, it was also Cora's and his father's. Cora was his wife, and he wanted her to be his partner in a choice that would affect her future as much as it would his; the idea of dictating her fate in a way that most men in her former circle would have done rankled him. He turned back to Ian.

"It is something to consider, Ian, and is not taken lightly. We'll discuss it privately."

Ian nodded. "As you should. There'd be more land to clear, and rebuilding of the cabin, but if the timing is right there are friends and neighbors to help if you decide it's the right thing to do. Now, I've been idle long enough this morning, and there's firewood to split and work to be done yet, and you'll need to be off hunting soon." He rose and Alasdair followed. Sarah wrapped Aileen onto her back and went with Maggie and Aidan to feed the animals. Nathaniel touched Chingachgook's shoulder as they stepped outside together, speaking to him quietly. Cora stirred the coals in the bake oven built into the side of the fireplace, and began preparing ingredients for bread dough. She felt pensive and unsettled about the morning's conversation. She knew that nothing could be set in stone at this point in time, but she could not help the roiling mix of emotions she felt about the possibility of settling here, and she worried that Nathaniel and Chingachgook would not feel the same way. Nathaniel had not expressed any real feeling one way or the other about the matter, and it frustrated her.

Nathaniel stood in the doorway and watched Cora. She seemed lost in her thoughts, staring into the flames in the fireplace as her hands worked at mixing dough with punishing strokes that betrayed the anxiety he could see in the stiffness of her shoulders and the slight flush on her cheeks. He wanted to take it from her, to allay her worries and see her smile. He had a fair idea of what was on her mind, and he thought it best to deal with it before it festered between them. As he stepped into the kitchen, she stilled when she heard him there, but did not turn around to him. She released a small sigh, her head dropping forward as she looked down at her hands buried in half-mixed dough. Nathaniel put his hands on her shoulders, gently kneading her tense muscles.

"Tell me, _ndah_. What troubles you?" Her shoulders sagged and she leaned back against him with another sigh.

"I don't know if it is anything we can even talk about right now, because we can't yet make a decision about what will happen after the winter."

"We can always talk." He kissed her hair and paused for a moment. "You want to come back here in the spring."

"You know that I do. But I know there are things to consider and it isn't so easy as to just say that is what we will do. And I know that may not be what you or your father want, and I do not want us to disagree about something so important. You had a completely different plan for your future before…before all these terrible things happened to us, and before I was part of your life. I have never had as much control over my own destiny as I do now, but I am only one part of three in this choice, Nathaniel, and I don't know what you want, because you have not told me. Perhaps you don't know, either." Nathaniel released her shoulders and she turned to look up at him, her eyes full of uncertainty. "I am worried that having to consider my feelings will cause you to make a choice you would not otherwise make, or at the very least that my presence has upset what you originally planned. Because I _do_ want to come back here, for so many reasons. I know this place now, and these people. Ian and Sarah and the children…I can't bear the thought of never seeing them again. And…I know it seems silly, but my father is buried in Albany, and now that I know Mr. Phelps is there, I can't…I don't know if this makes sense to you, but it feels like I have a piece of my father and a piece of Alice back knowing he is alive, or at least some piece of what made me happy in that life. It feels like home to me here in a way no other place ever has. We met here. We fell in love here. We fought and grieved and worked for our life here, together. We married here. Our blood, sweat and tears have mingled together here, on this piece of the earth. Do you understand?" Her eyes glittered as she searched his intense gaze in earnest.

"I do understand," he said softly, brushing a wisp of hair off her forehead and grazing the backs of his fingers down her cheek. "I spent my life here, as did my father. As did Uncas. My birth family and my adopted family have left this world here, and my father's people have lived and died here. I have known the Camerons, and Jack and Ian and all of these people, and I care for them deeply. And yes, I found you here. I do understand, Cora."

She nodded and went back to mixing the sticky bread dough together while he remained beside her. "What about Ian's proposal – about the Cameron farm?"

"I don't know yet how to feel…it makes sense, and it's a sound suggestion. I suppose if we were to return here, it would be the best option for a place to settle. I just need to sort it out. They were my friends."

Cora looked at him compassionately. "I understand. I do. And I want you to be happy, too. I want us to choose whatever we do together, and have no regrets. I know what I want, and you know what I want. But what do _you_ want, Nathaniel? _Do_ you know? The last thing I want is to henpeck you if you need time, I just…I want to know what your _feelings_ about settling back here are, even if you can't decide now."

"What I want is to be with _you_ , Cora. With my wife. Wherever that may be. But given the choice of where, and if things are safe enough when the time comes, then yes, I would choose to be here. My choice was different three months ago, but so was my life. So was yours. Now…it has always been my home, but even more so with you here."

She blew out a shaky sigh of relief. "Then it is enough for me for now to know that we both feel the same. We can decide on the particulars of it later." She divided the substantial mass of dough into separate balls, dusting her hands and each ball with flour. Nathaniel turned her gently to him, tipping her chin up with his finger.

"Do not worry any more, _ndah_. If I can give you a home here, I will. Your presence upsets nothing, please do not think that."

Cora smiled timidly. "Thank you for staying to talk. Sometimes I am unsure of how to do all of this…how to approach such conversations. Marriage is still very new to me, and I didn't want to insist we discuss it if you were not ready, because I was afraid we would argue."

He stroked his thumb across her bottom lip and smiled back at her. "It is better to talk about it now than to let it wait and cause strife. I am a novice to this as well, and I don't doubt that we will argue one day, but for now…I think there are much more pleasant things to do with my wife than that."

"Is that so?" Her smile broadened as she raised a dark brow, tipping her face a little closer to his.

"Very much so." He leaned down and brushed his lips along her jaw to her chin, absorbing her sigh as he slanted his mouth over hers, his tongue sweeping between her lips as she met it in return. His arms crushed her to him, pressing the backs of her thighs against the edge of the tabletop. She wrapped her arms around his waist, her hands sliding down to the firm muscle of his buttocks. A low, purr-like giggle sounded in her throat as she squeezed, pulling him flush against her.

"Yes…you are right," she said breathily. "This is much more pleasant." She nuzzled the hollow of his throat with her nose, pressing her lips to his chest above the opening of his shirt. He dipped his head and kissed her again, nipping at her full lips, his hand grazing up her side and briefly caressing her breast through her bodice.

"I wish there were time to continue this," he murmured, "but my father waits for me to hunt, and we won't be alone here long in any case."

"You should go." She brushed a kiss over his mouth and removed her hands from his backside.

"I should. We'll finish this later." His eyes flashed with heated promise.

"Be safe today. I love you."

"I love you too, _ndah_." He backed away reluctantly and kissed her one more time before taking up Killdeer, slinging his possibles bag and powder horn across his shoulder as he headed for the door. Nodding to Sarah as he passed her on the back porch on her way into the house, he didn't see her gaze double back or hear her snort of amusement when she caught sight of the dusty white handprints emblazoned on the dark green fabric of his shirt where it hung over his rear end.

"Keep that tomfoolery up and she'll be with child before the week's out," Sarah muttered under her breath, chuckling as she entered the kitchen to find a pink-faced, grinning Cora setting bread dough closer to the fire's warmth to rise and covering it with a cloth.

Nathaniel met Chingachgook by the barn, where he had the pack mule readied for their hunt and his musket strapped across his back.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, father," Nathaniel said as they made their way into the forest.

"It is all right. Better to settle important matters when they need to be discussed. All is well with Cora, then?"

"It is." Nathaniel smiled as he climbed a small embankment. Chingachgook glanced up as he ascended just behind him, noting the back of his son's shirt, and gave him a knowing smirk.

"Well indeed. That is one way to settle your woman's worries." His eyes twinkled with merriment as he gestured at the floury evidence of the brief kitchen encounter. Nathaniel looked at him quizzically, then craned over his shoulder to see what his father was referring to.

He laughed and brushed the handprints away, then grinned sheepishly at Chingachgook with a sidelong glance. "Well…it worked, did it not?"

"So long as it works just as well to give me grandchildren," he said with a good-natured chuckle as Nathaniel rolled his eyes and traipsed ahead once more.

* * *

The days were shortening as autumn was in full swing; the sun was already well into the western sky when the two men trekked home later that day, the mule loaded with a deer and four fat rabbits. On the way, they talked on and off about their upcoming journey south to the Delaware winter camp – they would leave in less than two weeks. After a short time of silence, Nathaniel looked over at Chingachgook, his expression weighty.

"Father, what do you think about what Ian proposed this morning – coming back to resettle John's farm in the spring?"

Chingachgook gazed ahead for a moment, seeming to be weighing his response in his mind before he spoke. "It's a matter that needs thought and discussion yet, Hawkeye. Ian's thinking is sensible. It is good land. John was a fine man and a hard worker, and just as good was Alexandria. A terrible thing happened there to them. But I feel Ian is also not wrong to say that John would not want their efforts to be wasted – to make a bad thing good again."

"Part of me is uncertain," Nathaniel said, "but then another part of me agrees with Ian. I don't know yet. No matter what, we have yet to see how this war progresses. I have no doubt the British will want a comeback after Fort William Henry. Cora wants badly to return here, and I want to be able to give that to her, but if the French and their allies are too near, the danger to the frontier is greater. If they move north into Canada we could hope it would never come so close to us again here. If there is a child to consider…"

Chingachgook nodded. "And you, my son? Do you want to remain here?"

Nathaniel sighed. "I used to think it did not matter if we stayed or went elsewhere, but that was before, when Uncas was to find a wife and we could settle in a new place. Our circumstances changed, and I am the one newly married, and everything is different now than it would have been. I was born here, raised here with you all my life. I know this place, I know these people, and there is a part of me that knows the good of settling where we are among friends. And Cora…she has made a home for herself here, after losing everything she knew before. I worry that to take her from it…I could not bear to break her heart like that if the choice was mine to make."

"There is truth in that. We planned to go to Cantuckee when we were three men, making our way trapping, hunting, with no one aside from ourselves to consider. Change is a constant thing in this life, and we have seen much of it in the months past. The life of a trapper is not well suited to a newly married man with a wife, and someday children. Not long from now I will grow too old for that life as well. Perhaps it is better to settle in a place we know, among those we care for…where the breath of my people lingers, and where I may yet find what remains of them before they are all gone. Before I, too, am gone."

They walked along, quiet, listening to the sounds of the forest around them and the rhythmic thud of the mule's hooves in the brush. Nathaniel preferred not to think about Chingachgook being gone. He thought enough about Uncas being gone, still feeling the chafe of his brother's absence more than he cared to admit. He missed his quiet, steadfast company, the bright treasure of his smile and the humor of their affectionate teasing, and the deep, calming baritone of his voice. He selfishly hoped it would be a long time yet before their father followed Uncas, and though he outwardly brushed off his good-humored needling about grandchildren, he truly hoped that he and Cora would give him that joy in the time to come.

* * *

Later, as the dark cloak of night had long settled over the land with its fields of glowing stars, a fire warmed the small cabin interior, its flames casting irregular shadows in the dark. Nathaniel and Cora lay in bed together in the afterglow of finishing what they had started in the kitchen that morning, soft conversation passing between them. Nathaniel relayed some of his talk with Chingachgook that day, after which Cora practiced speaking Delaware and Mohican phrases, and translating what Nathaniel spoke to her.

"I'm terrible at this," she lamented. "My accent makes the words come out all wrong half of the time."

"It's not as bad as you think, and you'll pick it up much more quickly when we're among the Delaware and you are surrounded by the language."

Cora sighed, laying her head on Nathaniel's chest. "I fear I will say something incorrectly and end up telling someone that their daughter looks like a mule."

His laughter rumbled beneath her ear. "You worry so. Do not forget that most of them speak English, too."

She raised her head and propped herself up to look down at him. "I know, I just…You are my husband, and these are in some way your people. I want to make an effort, and I don't expect anyone to cater to me when I am a guest in the place that is their home and their way of life, not mine."

He touched her cheek, his limpid green eyes full of cherishing ardor. " _Aholkwësit_ , you make me a proud husband in all that you do. I promise that your effort will be appreciated, perfect or not." He rose onto one elbow and brushed his lips across hers. "Now, repeat after me, and tell me if you understand this…" he rattled off a phrase in Delaware, and Cora repeated it slowly, picking over the words to translate their meaning in her head. She clucked her tongue and swatted Nathaniel, laughing.

" _My husband is the bravest and most handsome warrior in the village_?"

"You'll definitely need to remember how to say that." He grinned broadly and winked at her.

"Well…don't go letting it inflate your pride, but I happen to think it is true," she leaned in and whispered against his ear.

"Then I am a fortunate man indeed, to hold such esteem with my beautiful and courageous wife, who far surpasses me in every redeemable quality."

"Now you're just flattering me," she rolled her eyes and laughed.

"Never." He curled his fingers around the back of her neck and kissed her until she was breathless. "Never doubt that you constantly amaze me, every waking moment since the first time I saw everything that you are. You are more precious to me than anything I have ever known. _You_ are my home, Cora."

_"_ _How many loved your moments of glad grace,_

_And loved your beauty with love false or true;_

_But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,_

_And loved the sorrows of your changing face."_

_-William Butler Yeats-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:
> 
> This chapter is the last one at the MacKay farm for Nathaniel, Cora and Chingachgook. Next stop, the Delaware (Lenape) winter village, and whatever will happen there...
> 
> I wanted to raise the issue of future plans in this chapter. Nathaniel mentioned early in the film that they were heading out of New York, which clearly got derailed when they got involved with the Munro girls, and even further derailed when terrible happenings commenced and Nathaniel fell in love with Cora and asked her to marry him. They *could* stick with the original plan of crossing the Ohio river in the spring and heading south to settle land in Kentucky (which is what was in the original script before that line was cut), but all the things they discuss in this chapter seem like really legitimate reasons to possibly reconsider that plan: Cora's attachments, Nathaniel and Chingachgook's history there, the life changes that have taken place for them, friends who have become like family, the possibility of finding other Mohicans, and especially Cora being able to make a long journey like that if she were to get pregnant (and Sarah's cute little observation is pretty astute, because obviously these two really like being married). We'll see about that – I promise nothing! There are several considerations for what decision they will make, though we don't know one way or the other what will happen yet. There is still a war on in New York, after all.
> 
> I debated for weeks about having Ian bring up resettling the Cameron farm, for obvious reasons. What happened to the Camerons in the film was awful and heartbreaking, and it was clearly a very upsetting experience (it seemed especially upsetting for Nathaniel), so it is a really touchy subject all around between characters and fans alike. On the other hand, what Ian says does make sense to me too, so that makes it less...weird? I don't know. I hope the idea isn't too weird or unsettling. Here's where I was coming from on that: I have to think that at a time when settling frontier land was a gargantuan undertaking for a small family (clearing land alone had to really suck, let alone building a cabin and then a house and outbuildings, plowing, etc.), if an opportunity existed to take over a partially or mostly-cleared parcel, someone would take it. I'd like to think after seven years of indentured service and then trying so hard to make a new life for their family, that all the work John and Alexandria put into their homestead would not go to waste and would be picked up and carried on by someone who loved them and would want to honor that. That is Ian's point as someone who cared for them very much, and the idea of turning something bad into something good. This is again not a 100% decision for our little clan, and Nathaniel might need some time with that.
> 
> I could not resist the flour handprints part. It's cliché, I know, but the idea made me giggle for weeks and weeks, and I just had to. Plus it gives a touch of lighthearted humor and sweet romance to an otherwise pretty serious chapter – as does the last bit.
> 
> Thank you for continuing to follow this story, and thank you to those leaving reviews, I very much look forward to them because that's how I know what readers think! I have been really glad to have another fanfic author to bounce ideas and opinions off of, and a husband who supports this hobby and offers his honest input when I need an opinion (and recently had a really insane idea for a LOTM/Predator crossover that will never happen but had me laughing for days). Anyway, thanks, y'all, and please leave reviews if you can!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several weeks into their winter stay with the Lenni-Lenape (Delaware), strange and fortuitous dreams about Alice haunt Cora, and trouble looms heavy for our little family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End notes are in the text of the chapter due to length.

**Chapter 9**

_"And I heard your voice_   
_As clear as day_   
_And you told me I should concentrate_   
_It was all so strange_   
_And so surreal_   
_That a ghost should be so practical_   
_Only if for a night_

_And the only solution was to stand and fight_   
_And my body was bruised and I was set alight_   
_But you came over me like some holy rite_   
_And although I was burning, you're the only light_   
_Only if for a night"_

_-Paul Epworth & Florence Welch-_

**READERS: There is a translation list for Lenape words used in this chapter in the author's note.** All lyrics and quotations used in the chapters of this story are used purely for entertainment purposes. I own nothing and profit from nothing.

_December 20, 1757_

_She stood on the rocky path, motionless, her voice void of sound as she tried to scream and could not. From the point ahead the sheer drop was hundreds of feet. In slow motion, she saw Alice lean toward the precipice with one last look at the man who had taken her father's life, and now the life of Uncas. Her expression was hopeless, yet baleful and defiant as her final choice removed her from his power. In her mind's eye, Cora now stood in Magua's place and watched her sister fall in front of her. Suddenly the atmosphere seemed to waver around her, and all she could see was Alice's hazel eyes before her face, and all she could hear was the cacophonous sound of beating wings, creating a fury of wind that whipped her hair and clothes around her wildly. Alice was gone. The gale force wind continued, the sound of the wings and the deafening caw growing louder as the impossibly enormous crow burst forth from the depths below where her sister and Uncas had fallen. Flames engulfed its wings and tail, burning its rainbow body black. The flames spread through the air, burned away the mountain and the sky. Now she stood in the snow, deep, cold, unforgiving in a silent, frozen world. The crow descended from the sky, fire in its beak, fire on its body, diving along the snow and melting it away in a circle around her. Hot tears streaming down her face, she looked up as the fiery crow cawed once more, hurtling toward her in a mass of blackened feathers and flame, filling her field of vision. Then a voice. Alice's voice, surrounding her, as if a thousand Alices whispered on the maelstrom created by the crow's wings while the world was on fire all around._

_"_ _Winter comes. You must have courage. You must fight. Cora…Cora…Cora!"_

"Cora!"

She came awake with a panicked cry and shot into a sitting position, disoriented and gasping for breath, her body shaking violently. Warm, strong hands gripped her shoulders. The haze and confusion of the dream left her as she became aware of her surroundings; the faint smoky smell in the air from the dying embers in the hearth. The stars and moonlight peeking dimly through the smoke hole above, where the cold night air leaked in. The rush mats and warm furs beneath her on the wood sleeping platform, the wool blankets, and the earthy smell of the bark sheets and bullrush mats covering the walls of the wigwam. And Nathaniel, warm and solid before her, his worried voice speaking her name, barely visible but for a faint outline of him. With a shuddering sob, she sought him in the dark and collapsed against him, clinging to him desperately. His arms enveloped her and he pulled her onto his lap, pushing her hair away from her face, whispering gently to her as he tried to calm her trembling. She leaned her forehead to his, her hands stroking over his face as if to reassure herself of his presence. His hand covered hers on his cheek, and he kissed her palm softly.

"What was it, Cora? Alice again?" They had both had an uptick in dreams about their siblings since arriving here, seeming to take turns waking in a cold sweat some nights. Nathaniel attributed it to being in a familiar place without Uncas on his part, and a vast change of environment for Cora.

"I…do not know. The first part was the same…the same as always, but the rest…it was new." She tried to explain what she had seen in the dream, and what she had heard Alice's voice say. "I don't know what to think of it. It terrified me, and it was so real. Perhaps it is the strain of the past week…"

Nathaniel frowned pensively. "Perhaps, but it could be more than that. Crow is a messenger between worlds, and it may have meaning. You should speak to Kanshiopán about it in the morning." She nodded, and he lay down again, pulling her close to him to keep her warm in the frigid night air so that they could go back to sleep.

* * *

The next morning after they dressed and ate, Cora donned her cloak over her long deerskin dress and fur-lined moccasins and leggings, took her medical bag and went in search of her friend Kanshiopán, an older Lenape woman who was a _nentpike_ , or knowledgeable herbalist and healer in the village. They had been in the winter village since the last week of October. Chingachgook and Nathaniel knew many people here, though some of their old friends had left to move west with other Munsee Delaware groups. Sir William Johnson had been correct in his speculation that they might find a small number of Mohican among the Delaware – there was a small band of around fifteen people who had left the Wappinger lands and were making their winter home here, and they planned to migrate northwest in the spring to locate others who had already crossed the Ohio. For now, Nathaniel and most especially Chingachgook were overjoyed to be among other Mohicans, even if they were of no blood or clan relation. Chingachgook was staying in a longhouse with the group, while Cora and Nathaniel occupied a wigwam nearby that the men had constructed when they arrived.

The first two or so weeks had been awkward for Cora. She was unsure of herself in a place so different from anywhere she had ever lived or stayed, and she was painfully aware of how much she stood out with her light skin and her English clothes, and how some people stared at her. She had been more shy than was characteristic of her at first, but she was always friendly and appreciative toward others. Most of the people in the village were polite to her and at least welcoming if not sociable. She spent much of her time those first weeks offering to help where she could and sewing additional winter garments for the three of them from deerskin and fur. One afternoon in the third week as she was walking alone, she had heard a group of younger women close to her age chatting in Delaware as they sat outside a longhouse grinding dry corn into cornmeal. She couldn't understand all of their conversation, but she had understood enough. They were talking snidely about her, glancing her way here and there. She did not know them except in passing. Two older women sat nearby, sewing and ignoring their catty gossip.

"… _of course his white son married that white woman and brought her here_ …"

"… _I heard her father was a Yengeese officer…she must have been a fine lady then…I wonder if she misses her silk dresses and her fancy house and servants to do her bidding_ …"

"… _probably thinks she's better than everyone, she never talks to anyone but her white husband and his Mohican father_ …"

"… _see how long it takes her to leave him and go back to the Yengeese_." They giggled at that.

Cora had bristled, her face flushing pink with indignation and anger. Apparently her social insecurity was being mistaken for snobbishness, and these women clearly hadn't a clue about her if they thought she was that shallow and stupid. She had heard enough. She approached the group with her head held high and looked right at them, making her finest effort yet to speak to them in their own tongue.

" _Not everyone is what they seem. If you want to know about my life before, ask me. I am here because I choose to be. Where I came from does not matter; only where I am, and where I am going."_ The young women stared at her, slack-jawed and completely taken aback that the white woman spoke Delaware. Cora finished in English, _"_ I speak to those who bother to speak to my face, instead of behind my back like cowards."

She left them sitting there wide-eyed while the two older women nearby chuckled with amusement at how she had put the notorious gossips in their place. One of the older women got up and followed her, admiring her pluck. That had been Kanshiopán. As soon as she had found out Cora's previous medical experience, she had taken her under her wing, teaching her more about medicinal herbs while Cora shared what she had learned from Mr. Phelps over the years. Cora had begun to help her around the village, and as a result was getting to know more people and her language skills were also improving – Nathaniel had been right about the exposure being helpful. Some of the people were reserved with her at first, but once they got to know her and realized she spoke their language and respected their culture, they were friendly and more open. The Mohican people were easier for her because they had readily accepted Chingachgook and Nathaniel, and her as well after a few days of seeing that she could speak to them a little, and was ready and willing to help with anything that needed to be done, shying away from nothing.

Three weeks ago, the first person had fallen ill with influenza, not long after the first heavy snow had come. Within a week, at least ten people were sick, and now it was closer to twenty altogether. Four had advanced to lung fever and died in the past week, most were still fighting it, and a few were beginning to recover. It had been a very stressful time, especially the past week with the deaths. Cora had spent every day making rounds with Kanshiopán to visit the sick and administer herbal treatments. Dogwood bark seemed the most helpful for the high fevers, while white willow helped aches. Cora thanked God numerous times a day for the substantial supply of horehound syrup she had gotten from the apothecary in Albany, and the hyssop she and Sarah had grown, which Kanshiopán also had a supply of. Both were worthy aids in treating the congestion and especially the racking cough that accompanied the sickness. Mr. Phelps had always kept a healthy supply of both because of how rapidly influenza spread in the Army camps. The sick here were also put in the village sweat lodge per Delaware practice, and afterward doused with cold water and wrapped in blankets by a fire. Kanshiopán had told her this was to sweat out the sickness. Cora was a general proponent of the sweat lodge in any case, being highly grateful for the ability to take regular steam baths even in the dead of winter. She had never thought of its use in sickness, but it seemed to be helping break the fevers, so she supported it wholeheartedly. While treatments such as bleeding and purging were common practice among her people, in her observation they had only ever seemed to make things worse, so she did not practice them, nor did Mr. Phelps. He had his own way of doing things and had more progressive ideas based on his own experiments and a burning curiosity that caused him to read any new medical literature he could come by. This had generally resulted in him passing what he learned on to Cora when she was present on a campaign. She was most grateful for it now, and Kanshiopán was fascinated by the differences in medical practice between their cultures, and how they could combine their knowledge to make the best effort in this situation.

She found Kanshiopán in her clan's longhouse, and after she had gathered her supplies for their morning of sick calls, they left together.

"You are bothered this morning," the older woman said, appraising Cora's fatigued visage.

"I am tired," Cora replied. "These past weeks have been trying."

Kanshiopán clucked her tongue. "I am an old woman; I can see that you are tired, but today it is something else that troubles you."

Cora sighed. "I dreamed something very strange last night. Nathaniel thought I should speak to you about it." She explained her dream in detail, leaving nothing out. When she had finished, the older woman looked at her intently.

" _Mánáka'has_ , Rainbow Crow, has come to you. He is a messenger between our world and the world of _Kishelamákänk_ , the Creator. Do you dream of your sister often?"

"Sometimes. Nathaniel dreams of his brother as well. They are not pleasant dreams. For me it is almost always the same, like the first part of my dream when I see her fall. The crow and the fire and her voice speaking to me was…I have never seen that before. Do you think it means something?"

"I believe you have received a message from _Mánáka'has_. You have not dreamed of him before?"

"Not dreamed of him, no…but there was something that happened at the place where my father is buried…" She told Kanshiopán about the raven who had dropped the uniform button at her father's headstone.

"Keep your eyes and ears open, child. I do not know what _Mánáka'has_ means to tell you, but you may know soon. He shifts his shape, heralds changes to come. Perhaps he speaks in your sister's voice because that is the way you will listen and heed him."

Cora nodded silently, feeling uneasy. Whatever it had been about, it felt like a warning, like an icy hand clutching the pit of her stomach. She pushed it away for the time being. They had much work to do among the sick, and she couldn't let it distract her from her patients.

* * *

The next morning, Cora woke in the wigwam alone in the pale grey light of a wintry dawn. The air was frigid outside the cocoon of furs and blankets, and she dimly wondered where Nathaniel had gone so early. She yawned and rose, goosebumps on her skin as she left the warmth of the sleeping platform to dress and go help the women from the Mohican longhouse cook a breakfast of cornmeal mush with dried pumpkin. She brushed and braided her hair down her back, put on her cloak, and left the wigwam into the still, damp air and the snowy ground outside. She found Nathaniel with Chingachgook and several other Delaware and Mohican men outside the longhouse, engaged in what appeared to be a serious discussion. She greeted the other women and began to help make meal preparations. The group of men broke, and Nathaniel came to her where she stood stirring an iron pot over the firepit.

"What's going on?" She took in his serious expression.

"Máxkwikee and I both heard elk bugling nearby before dawn. We are forming a hunting party to go and find the herd. Dried meat stores are dwindling already due to the short supply of game here this year, so we need the meat badly."

Cora knew it was a completely logical and normal thing to do – if the prospect of fresh meat existed, the men would hunt. However, in the back of her mind she had a sudden and inexplicable opposition to the idea.

"You are going, then?" She knew he was; among all the men she knew none would match Nathaniel's marksmanship with Killdeer. His presence would guarantee success if they found the herd.

"I am. So is my father. We need to go very soon so the herd doesn't move too far before we can track it. If snow starts falling again, we'll lose it. Going to get some things together and eat, and then we're walking out of here fast." He kissed her briefly and went to their wigwam.

Cora handed her stirring spoon to one of the other women, excusing herself, and followed him. Lifting the waxed hide over the door, she found Nathaniel inside, bundling into layers of his warmest clothing and preparing a pack-roll of other supplies. Once finished, he gathered his powder and priming horns and the leather bag containing powder measures, ammunition, a roll of cotton for patches, and other necessary items. She observed him in silence, the nervous feeling growing inside her. Why did she feel this way? He had gone hunting before now with most of these men. He had hunted all the time at the farm. Perhaps it was just the cold and the unease in the village with so many people being sick. As he strapped on his belt and knife, she came up behind him suddenly and slid her arms under his and around him, her hands resting on the hard wall of his chest. She kissed his shoulder and pressed her cheek against his back with a shaky sigh. He placed a hand over hers and turned halfway, wrapping the other arm around her to bring her against his front. She buried her face against his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of him.

"Is something wrong, _aholkwësit_?"

"I feel…I don't want you to go, though I know you must. I don't know why. I'm being silly I suppose, I just…I have a bad feeling. Please promise me you'll be careful, Nathaniel."

"I promise." His fingertips gently grazed her cheek and his eyes were soft and reassuring as they met her worried ones. She threw her arms around his neck in a fierce embrace, and he held her tightly, his face pressed into her hair.

"I have to go. The others will be waiting for me," he whispered. She looked up at him and nodded, then pulled his head down and kissed him fervently. He groaned softly, his fingers curling into her hair at the nape of her neck as her hands roamed frantically over his back and shoulders, then stroked his face and hair. When they broke apart at last, he leaned his forehead to hers, their noses touching, breath rising in tiny clouds in the cold air.

"I love you. Please come back to me safe, _mo chridhe_."

"I will. I love you, _ndah_. With all that I am." Dropping his tomahawk into the loop on his belt and picking up Killdeer, he exited the wigwam with Cora behind him. She walked with him to where Chingachgook and a few others waited for the rest of the hunting party to gather. After they had quickly eaten and they were all assembled and beginning to leave, Cora touched Chingachgook's arm.

"Please, _nshilihëlus_ , keep him safe, and yourself. I feel afraid and I do not know why."

"Do not worry, _naxëm_. We will be back soon enough." He smiled reassuringly at her and the party left.

Cora watched them disappear into the forest, her stomach in knots, praying that he was right. She went back to the wigwam and began readying herself for the day ahead. As she took stock of her medical supplies and assembled what she needed, she ran her fingers over the leather supply bag, made from the heavier belly hide of an elk. Nathaniel had made it and given it to her as a gift before they left the farm, citing it as an early gift for her birthday, which she had at some point remembered was approaching in November. He had laughed sweetly and said that if he didn't know his own birthdate, he ought to at least remember hers. The bag was lined with rows of divided pockets to hold pouches of dried herbs, bottles, cloths and bandages, and suture needles and thread. She had been delighted with it, and with his continued show of support for her medical practice. She smiled to herself as she loaded it with pertinent items for sick call in the village, and when she was done she went to meet Kanshiopán.

The morning dragged on as they made their visits. A few more people were beginning to improve, and thankfully no one else seemed to be getting worse. Three more had fallen ill, one of whom was the son of one of the younger women Cora had admonished for gossiping about her several weeks before. Cora spoke gently to the boy, whose name was Chëmamtët. He was perhaps Maggie's age or slightly older. She reassured his mother, giving her a measure of camphor salve to rub on his chest to aid congestion and cough. She was part of Kanshiopán's clan and lived in the same longhouse, so the older woman would be able to watch the boy closely and keep his mother supplied with herbs for him.

"How did you come to be such a skilled healer?" The woman, whose name was Wëlàhëne, asked shyly. "You are so young."

"My father, as you know, was an Army officer. Since I was a girl, I traveled with him to war camps, and I helped the physician there take care of sick and wounded people. I have done this for eleven years now."

Wëlàhëne touched her hand as she got up to leave. "Thank you," she said softly. "I am sorry we were unkind to you. It was not right of us. You are not like other _Yengeese._ "

"It is no matter now," Cora said with a smile, clasping her hand in return. "Do not burden yourself with it, all is forgotten. If you need anything for your son, find me or ask Kanshiopán." She left with the older woman and they went on to the next patient.

By midday, ominous gray clouds were rolling in from the northeast, building across the sky and bringing the cold wind with it. In the early afternoon, snow began to fall steadily, and within the hour the snow was growing heavy, blowing in blinding clouds on the freezing wind and collecting at an alarming rate. Cora grew more anxious with each passing minute as she and Kanshiopán trudged through the snow back to their homes.

"Your husband is with the hunting party?" her friend asked.

"Yes, and my father-in-law." Cora's voice was laced with worry, and she was unable to keep her distress from betraying itself in her eyes as she looked at the other woman. "They have not returned yet."

"Let us hope they will come soon," She looked up at the sky as the storm raged on.

By late afternoon, there was still no sign of the hunting party. Cora occupied herself helping the women in the Mohican longhouse, trying to stuff the rising panic down as far as she could. Being hysterical would help nothing, she reasoned with herself. She chatted absently and worked methodically, all the while praying silently to God and whoever else might be listening that the men would come back safe. Just before dusk, she heard shouts from outside the longhouse. She and several of the women whose husbands were with the party threw on mantles and cloaks and ran out into the storm. Through the blind of the blowing snow, Cora could see a number of dark shapes approaching. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest as men from the hunting party began to stumble into the camp. Three of them led mules burdened with an elk carcass each. All of them looked exhausted and half frozen. Her panic mounted by the second as she waited to see Nathaniel and Chingachgook among them. They did not come. She grabbed one of the Mohican men, Niankwe, by the arm.

" _Where is Hawkeye, Niankwe? Where is Chingachgook_?" she pleaded wildly.

"Got separated when Hawkeye went after a bull, then the storm came," he answered gravely. "We tried to find him, but we had no luck. Chingachgook would not come back with us until he found him. Máxkwikee is with him. They sent us back, the storm was too bad to go any longer. I only hope that the _manetu_ will aid them in this mighty storm _Kishelamákänk_ has sent us."

Cora's mind reeled with flashes of a story. The world, covered in bitter cold snow. A brave, beautiful bird with the sweetest voice who sacrificed all of its beauty and grace to bring fire back from _Kishelamákänk_ the Creator to save the world from dying in the snow…and a burning crow that spoke with her sister's voice in the night. She felt the icy hand of fear return with a vengeance, closing around her chest and stealing her breath, her knees buckling as she remembered Alice's voice in her dream.

" _Winter comes…you must have courage…you must fight…"_

_"This is my winter song to you._   
_The storm is coming soon,_   
_It rolls in from the sea_

_Is love alive?_

_They say that things just cannot grow_   
_Beneath the winter snow,_   
_Or so I have been told._

_They say we're buried far,_   
_Just like a distant star_   
_I simply cannot hold._

_Is love alive?_

_This is my winter song._   
_December never felt so wrong,_   
_'Cause you're not where you belong;_   
_Inside my arms."_

_-Sara Bareilles & Ingrid Michaelson-_

* * *

**Author's Note:**

This chapter feels kind of intense and really different in places. Of course, it's partially because Nathaniel, Cora, and Chingachgook are in a totally different environment and culture than they've been in for the rest of the story, and the other part is the strange dream and the general portent it brings for Cora, plus the fact that now Nathaniel and Chingachgook are missing in a snowstorm (I feel so mean, they're all sitting in a corner glaring at me in my mind). It is expected that Cora may occasionally have nightmares or PTSD-related dreams about the loss of her sister, as Nathaniel has before and Chingachgook probably has too, though I haven't written about it. This one is an odd dream and a very visually stunning one, and maybe somewhat uncomfortable, but that's kind of the intent; she is receiving a message in a way that will make her take it to heart and not dismiss it. It is also to show her that in some way, Alice is still with her. The idea came partially from my imagination and partially from a mix of different dreams I've had myself, some of which were incredibly important to me either spiritually, or later when something happened that made them make sense. It isn't meant to paint the beautiful legend of Rainbow Crow as something scary or creepy – only a profound way to show Crow as a messenger and a helper, as he/she is to the Lenape. More of that will unfold in the coming chapter. Courage and sacrifice are very strong qualities in all of these characters – Uncas and Alice included – and the courage and sacrifice of Crow parallels that theme. To me, it stands to reason that if Uncas and Alice chose a messenger to speak to their loved ones, it would be Crow, because of what Crow represents, but also because Crow/Raven in most incarnations is the carrier of messages from the spirit world.

I have spent a lot of time and effort researching Lenape/Delaware lifeways, construction of longhouses and wigwams, and spiritual and health practices at this time in history, so that I can do my best to represent parts of that culture without just generalizing it. Telling Nathaniel and Cora's story is important to me, and telling it correctly and believably is equally important to my inner anthropologist. I've used some of the language as well, and I really hope I'm not butchering anything – which is why I've stuck to using single words. With the naming of characters, I really wanted to stay away from pulling names from internet lists, because often the lists of "Native American baby names" or whatever is out there are vastly incorrect, and it is very difficult to find any names anywhere that are specifically Delaware in origin. This is mostly because those names in any Indian culture are considered sacred, are only given by holy men or women, and there is no such thing as a publicized list of "real names". Taking the advice given by a legitimate cultural source, I chose character names based on animals, places, or things. To save the reader the time of looking up all the words I've used, here is a list of the vocabulary and names used in this chapter with translations:

1\. Nentpike: a person who is very knowledgeable in the use of herbs and medical treatments for illness or wound healing. Such a person usually began in this profession because of dreams or visions.

2\. Nshilihëlus: my father-in-law

3\. Naxëm: my daughter-in-law

4\. Mánáka'has: Rainbow Crow

5\. Kishelamákänk: The Creator Who Creates by Thinking What Will Be (The Great Spirit)

6\. Manetu: The good and helpful spirits which the Lenape believe reside in all things around us

7\. Kanshiopán: "elegant dawn"

8\. Máxkwikee: "among the bears"

9\. Wëlàhëne: "a pleasant stream"

10\. Niankwe: "Lynx"

11\. Chëmamtët: "Little Rabbit"

I have also spent significant time reading about 18th century European medical practices and what was common, as well as herbal remedies that were effective, suture needles and materials, etc. Cora does not do anything that is too far ahead of her time to be believable, but she also does not engage in some of the more common (and utterly ridiculous) practices rampant in colonial medicine. She and Mr. Phelps are pioneers, if you will. For example, she uses brandy or grain alcohol to disinfect wounds – this was done _sometimes_ , mostly by battlefield surgeons who had seen it work well, but it was not common practice yet. She also refuses to bleed and purge patients because most people with a lot of common sense (and Cora is quite sensible and astute) would see that this didn't do anything but make the illness worse. Nurses are notorious for having minds of their own and a sixth sense when it comes to the care of their patients – I should know, I am one. ;)

As a side note, I have to say that writing this story has been awesome for a number of reasons. For one, I'm a research junkie and this is really cool stuff to read about. For another, getting to develop the characters, their emotions, and their relationship to each other, especially Nathaniel, Cora, and Chingachgook. It has also in a roundabout way given me a far deeper appreciation for Uncas and Alice than I ever had before – not to say I never loved them, because seriously, who doesn't? I've just always been a die-hard Nathaniel/Cora fan. I've grown to love the versions of Uncas and Alice that live in my head for this story, even though they are not physically present. I have also developed an appreciation for them by reading other writers' work on this site. I already have a well-laid plan for my next multi-chapter story, and I'm happy to tell you that while the most primary focus remains on Nathaniel and Cora, Uncas and Alice are very much alive in that tale and will also receive heavy focus, and I am really excited about giving them life on paper that way.

Thank you all, as always, for continuing to read this. I especially appreciate the love it has gotten from the die-hard Uncas/Alice fans, because it is a huge compliment to me when you guys love this story despite their physical absence from it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathaniel faces the danger of being lost in a heavy snowstorm and receives some very unexpected aid, but will the danger end there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End notes are in the chapter text due to length.

**Chapter 10**

_My voice a beacon in the night_

_My words will be your light,_

_To carry you to me._

_Is love alive?_

_I still believe in summer days_

_The seasons always change_

_And life will find a way._

_I'll be your harvester of light_

_And send it out tonight_

_So we can start again._

_Is love alive?_

_My love a beacon in the night_

_My words will be your light,_

_To carry you to me."_

_-Sara Bareilles Ingrid Michaelson-_

**Word translations from this chapter are in the author's note.**

Nathaniel swore a silent blue streak to himself as the blizzard raged on. He never should have gone after the damned bull. He had thought Chingachgook was right behind him, but he had lost him at some point running fast to chase down the elk, and then the storm had picked up in intensity so quickly that any hope of finding anyone had been obliterated. He had lost the hunting party and his prey to it, and if it didn't stop soon, he was in danger of losing his life to it as well. There was no wood dry enough for a fire, and his flint and steel would be useless until the snow stopped falling so hard. Trying to move very far would be a fool's errand at this point; the snow was so thick that he couldn't see more than an arm's length in front of him, let alone discern what direction he was walking or what time of day it was. The rapidly collecting snow and heavy, bitter cold wind would leave him wet and freezing to death far faster if he tried to travel in it. It was safest to take shelter and stay put until the storm broke and he could orient himself.

He set about pushing and piling snow against a rocky outcrop that would help block the frigid wind. Using his tomahawk to dig, he created a burrow in the snow pile large and deep enough to fit him inside and protect him from the worst of the storm, packing the snow hard and smooth to keep it stable. He gave unbounding thanks for the fur-lined mittens Cora had made for him. They were damp when he was done, but they kept his hands from freezing entirely and being useless. Those and the fur-lined moccasins would stave off the danger of frostbite, at least for a time. The gray daylight was beginning to fade as he dragged his pack roll and Killdeer into the snow cave. Now feeling exhausted, achy, and chilled to the bone, he settled into the cramped space, his body shivering to warm itself. He tried not to dwell on the peril of his situation, not out of fear for himself so much as he could not bear to think of Cora waiting for him to return, and the terrified anguish she would feel when he did not. She had been so worried this morning already. With nothing to do now but think, her dream from the previous night slammed headlong into his brain and left him reeling with sudden comprehension, and the cold dread that came with it spreading through his chest.

_Winter comes…you must have courage…you must fight…"_

He had thought the message was for Cora, but now he was not so sure. He had to do whatever he could to find his way back to her once again. Fight he must, and fight he would. Failure was not an option. _It never has been when it came to her_ , he thought, moments from the past flashing through his memory. The George Road and the journey to the fort. Risking execution to stay behind for the interminable glory of that first kiss, when he had known he was hers, that he loved her hopelessly and irrevocably, that he would walk through hell itself to be with her. Fighting ruthlessly, savagely, to get to her in the mayhem of the massacre. The nauseous desperation he had felt having to leave her and Alice at Glens Falls, and the promise he had made. _"You stay alive, no matter what occurs! I will find you! No matter how long it takes, no matter how far, I will find you!"_ The grueling, sleepless night and day spent tracking the Huron, and finally finding them. The first night at Ian's…her soft, ardent whisper when everything - their grief, their love - was still so new. _"I would have waited for you. You burn inside of me like those stars in the sky, and I would have waited a lifetime to feel you again."_ He would do everything in his power to make sure she never had to wait that long for him.

* * *

Cora sat huddled in a cocoon of blankets and furs in the wigwam, unable to sleep. Silent tears tracked down onto Nathaniel's shirt, which she clutched beneath her chin, minutely comforted by the familiar scent of him on it. The three missing men had not returned, and night had fallen hours ago. The storm had finally relented sometime after dark, and the clouds in the sky were starting to separate, silvery moonlight gleaming through and making the snowy world glow ethereally white outside. A fire crackled in the rock-lined hearth in the center of the dwelling, warding off the deep chill of the air. He was strong, he could survive, she kept telling herself. He had survived so much, he knew what to do. He always knew what to do. She closed her eyes, repeating over and over the words he had said to her under the falls. _You're strong, you survive…you stay alive, no matter what occurs…_ At that time, her faith in herself to be able to fulfill those words had been tenuous at best, but she had never doubted that he would do what he promised and find her. That he would live. She could not let herself think about the cold, the dark, or what predators might lurk in the forest. Instead she directed all her power of thought at him, praying that her love and her faith could somehow be enough to sustain him. She would wait, just as she had waited before. _"I would have gone to the ends of the earth to bring you back to me,"_ he had said the first night at Ian's. _And I will still wait for you…I will still wait a lifetime to feel you again. Please come back to me._ Another wash of tears streaked down her reddened face, and she gracelessly wiped her dripping nose on the sleeve of her flannel nightdress.

The corner of the hide over the doorway lifted slightly, and Kanshiopán poked her head inside.

"I thought I would find you still awake. May I come in?"

"Of course. Please." Cora wiped her face. The older woman came in and sat down beside her on the sleeping platform, holding a cup filled with steaming, fragrant herbal liquid.

"Lavender, and a few other things to help calm you. Have you eaten?"

Cora took the cup from her friend. "Thank you. Yes, I ate a little." She had lost her bearing for a moment and nearly fainted when Niankwe had told her Nathaniel was missing. The women in the Mohican longhouse had been kind and sympathetic, taking her inside to sit down and insisting she eat before she went back to the wigwam alone. They had wanted her to stay the night in the longhouse, but she had declined, wanting to be in the wigwam where she was surrounded by Nathaniel's things.

"I believe that I understand now…what I dreamed," she murmured, taking a sip from the cup.

"I thought you might. I have been thinking about it since two of our men returned and told us that Hawkeye was lost in the storm."

"His father and Máxkwikee are still searching for him…Chingachgook would not come back without him, and Máxkwikee has been their friend since childhood. I can understand that Chingachgook would not leave Hawkeye…he is all he has left now." Her voice broke as a fresh wave of tears began. "And both of them are all I have left."

Kanshiopán took the cup from Cora's trembling hands and took her by the shoulders. "I have known these men for many years now. They are strong, cunning, and brave warriors. Have faith. _Mánáka'has_ has spoken to you. He has given you a message in the voice of your sister, yes, to warn you, but he has also brought you himself, to remind you that he once saved the world from the snow. He can save three men, too. He will watch over them, and the _manetu_ will see that no harm comes to them. Hawkeye will heed the advice _Mánáka'has_ gave. He is courageous, and he will fight."

"Yes, he will…Thank you, Kanshiopán. I cannot help my worry, but you are right about Hawkeye. He does not have it in him to give up if he can help it."

"Would you like me to stay here with you? You should not be left alone to worry so."

"That is kind of you. If you don't mind, I would like that."

They talked a little longer while Cora finished the cup of herbal tea, then Kanshiopán made her lie down so that she could try to sleep. She gazed through the smoke hole, where she could now see stars in the sky – reminders of those they loved who were no longer of this world, glinting against a sky as black as a crow's feathers. _Bring him back to me,_ she pleaded silently.

* * *

_He was buried in the snow. Everything was white around him, and the world was silent. He would have thought he was dead already, except he didn't think he would be so damn cold if that were the case, nor would every limb on his body ache so. He needed to move, but could not with all the snow around him. He was frozen along with the rest of the world. He had no sense of time here; how long had he been like this now? He had to get out. He had to find his way home to Cora, to his father. A sound broke the eerie silence of the crystalline white world from somewhere far above his frigid cocoon. A rough croaking, a series of clicks. Then a string of "caw, caw, caw!" growing louder, closer, carrying over the whooshing sound of great, powerful wings circling. The snow was melting, running all around him wet and cold like an icy river, and an orange glow perfused the space as the walls grew thinner and thinner. In a burst of light and sound, it disappeared from him, and he saw the crow, burning, bearing fire, having melted him out of the snowy tomb. He lay in the circle of wet earth, unmoving, as the fiery creature spread its wings and came over him, filling his vision with a sudden burst of flame that consumed it totally, then burned itself out in the cold, damp air to reveal the man who had taken its place. His raven-black hair gleamed in the odd light of this world as he knelt beside Nathaniel, who lay paralyzed thinking surely now he must be dead. He could not speak, he could not move. All he could do was see, and feel the hot tears that escaped across his cold skin as he gazed into the onyx-dark eyes of Uncas._

_You are not dead, niitákhan. You must get up. It is time to move. Wake up."_

Nathaniel woke with a strangled sob. He had no idea how long he had been asleep. The snow shelter had done its job protecting him from the storm, leaving him able to retain enough heat to not freeze to death. He shook his head, clearing the remnants of the dream. Had it been a dream? Yes, and no. _Uncas._ Still able to feel the light of his presence in the thick, damp air, he wiped away the tears leaking from his eyes. His whole damned body hurt everywhere, and he still felt exhausted despite the sleep. It was silent outside now, and dark. The storm must have broken. He slowly eased his stiff body out of the makeshift cave into the forest outside. Everything seemed alight, the deep, crisp snow reflecting the moonlight breaking through the clouds like the light of day. He rose to his feet slowly and braced himself against the rocky outcrop as a wave of dizziness subsided.

A rustling sound registered in his ears. His head snapped up, scanning his surroundings warily. A furry head poked cautiously over the mound of the snow shelter, black-backed ears cocked back in a nest of red, amber eyes and wet black nose gleaming above the white cheeks and chin. A fox, _òkwës_ to the Delaware. To the Mohican, _uncas_. They regarded each other for several minutes, Nathaniel incredulous and trying to determine if he was still dreaming, or at least hallucinating. His head felt like it was stuffed with wool, and it lent a strange quality to everything. He was finally convinced he wasn't when the fox climbed the rest of the way up the mound of snow and sat, curling his bushy red tail around his little black feet. He remained there, watching intently while Nathaniel pulled his belongings out of the shelter. The storm must have passed some time ago while he slept. It was now somewhere close to midnight, and he could see enough of the stars to get a sense of direction. He needed to get moving to warm up more, and moving would get him closer to home now that he could orient himself in that direction.

He unrolled his pack to get out some dried venison and leathery discs of dried squash and dried berries; he would need to eat to maintain enough energy to stay warm and move through the deep snow. He perched on the edge of the outcrop, eyeing the fox surreptitiously. He eyed Nathaniel back, tilting his head and blinking his intelligent, jewel-like eyes. His mouth opened, his tongue lolling to one side, and he let out a quiet yip. Nathaniel quirked a smile and tossed a bit of meat to the animal, who quickly snapped it up, grinning. When he was done, he slung the pack on with his possibles bag and picked up Killdeer. He expected the fox to take off, but it didn't. It ran a little distance and then stopped, dancing eagerly and looking back at him as if to say, "come on, then, follow me!" _You must get up. It is time to move._ They traveled in this manner together, Nathaniel making his way slowly through the deep snow while the fox bounded ahead at intervals and waited for him to catch up. Some time later, exhaustion began to set in again, and his lower legs and feet were numb with cold from wading through the wet snow. He needed to stop and rest and try to find wood dry enough for a fire, before the danger of frostbite became a reality. When he paused and made to remove the pack, the fox turned in circles and jumped back with a sharp bark. It did this a few times and then ran ahead once more, stopping to look back. _It wants me to follow it…it doesn't want me to stop_. _Well, all right, brother._ He could manage a little longer, and he thought while this was surreal, it should not be dismissed. Uncas had been there in the dream, and _uncas_ the fox was here now…he hoped he was right and that he wasn't losing all his good sense from being cold and tired. He could almost hear his brother teasing him now.

When he was beginning to think that he could not go any longer, suddenly the fox sniffed the air, yelped and dashed ahead. Nathaniel followed it doggedly, the smell of smoke registering with his senses. _Smoke…fire._ There was a fire somewhere nearby, and fire meant people. He needed to be careful; there was no telling if it was friend or foe. He ducked behind a tree to load and prime Killdeer while the fox trotted back and forth, waiting for him. He followed it and the smell of the smoke, maintaining cover. Beneath a rocky outcrop jutting from the blanket of white on the ground, he could now see the glow of a small fire and the forms of two men huddled close to it. He pressed his back against the wet rock, his thumb resting on Killdeer's lock, cocking the hammer back, and slowly sidled along toward the fire. Suddenly he heard the unmistakable click of a musket's hammer being cocked. A split second, and Killdeer swung to his shoulder, aimed toward the sound, his heart thumping erratically.

"Hawkeye!" a male voice exclaimed. _Máxkwikee_. He lowered Killdeer with a massive exhale as his longtime friend stepped into view, Chingachgook just behind him. Nathaniel went to his father and threw his arms around him.

" _Nux_ , I am so relieved to see you."

"As am I to see you. I have been very anxious, so worried I would not find you. I could not return with the others, not without my son."

They brought him in under the cavelike outcrop to get warm by the fire. They had waited out the storm here, Máxkwikee said, and after searching to no avail once it had subsided, they had come back to warm up and rest. Nathaniel relayed his experience to them, and quietly told Chingachgook about his dream, and the fox, who was nowhere to be seen now.

"The _manetu_ have graciously aided you, my friend," Máxkwikee said. Chingachgook said nothing for some time. He sat beside Nathaniel with a hand resting on his shoulder. After a long silence, he looked at Nathaniel, his dark eyes full of unshed tears.

"I am grateful tonight, to _Mánáka'has_ and to the _manetu_ …they have brought your brother to you in spirit to guide you, and by doing so have given me back my only remaining son. My despair was deep to think that I might have lost you, too." They embraced again.

"I could not leave you, father. Neither could I bear the thought of never returning to Cora. I had to get back to you."

"And you are not hurt?" Máxkwikee inquired.

"No, my friend. I am only cold to my bones and utterly exhausted."

"Let us rest for a short time," Chingachgook said. "It will be best to try to journey back without stopping. If we sleep a little now, we can move faster when we wake."

They made their bedrolls under the rocky shelter. Nathaniel lay as close to the fire as he could manage and tucked the wool blanket from his pack roll tightly around himself, shivering as he tried to get warm enough to sleep. It seemed he had barely nodded off when Chingachgook gently shook him awake, dawn graying the sky. He groaned, his head pounding, and forced himself to get moving to pack up. As they left the jutting rock shelter after arranging a small offering of thanks for the _manetu_ , a series of throaty clicks sounded, followed by a guttural _caw_. A raven, coal-black against the stark white snow, peered down at them from atop the outcrop, cocking its head to one side. Nathaniel and Chingachgook both nodded a silent greeting to it, exchanging a look as they followed Máxkwikee into the forest. Behind them, the fox leapt up and padded across the rock, taking a seat beside the bird, baring its teeth in the grin so particular to its species. The raven made a clicking sound in its throat, regarding the fox with one beady black eye before spreading its wings and taking off after the three men.

* * *

_CAW! CAW! CAW!_

Cora woke with a start and sat up, throwing the blanket off herself. She had not meant to sleep this late. The sun was already well risen. Kanshiopán had stayed the night with her, but was gone now. The smoke hole showed a mostly blue sky with broken clouds here and there. She splashed her face with cold water from the copper basin she kept in the corner, then pulled off her nightdress and exchanged it for a flannel shift with a long buckskin skirt and flannel blouse. She put on her moccasins and leggings, then brushed and braided her hair, put on her cloak, and stepped outside.

 _CAW!_ She looked up to see a raven perched on top of the wigwam. It stretched its wings and flapped them at her, clicking its beak.

"I see you have a visitor this morning," Kanshiopán said from behind her.

"It would appear so," Cora replied, turning to her friend.

"Perhaps he brings you good news. You slept well at last?"

"I must have eventually. I have only just woken. I will eat something and be along to help you call on the sick as soon as I can. Thank you for staying with me."

"Perhaps you should stay and rest today? You have had a trying time."

"No," Cora shook her head. "I will go mad with worry if I do not occupy myself with work. I cannot stay idle and allow myself to think terrible things."

Once she had eaten breakfast and gathered her supplies, she joined Kanshiopán to make their daily visits to those who were still sick, tamping down her anguish and letting her work try to occupy the emptiness she felt not knowing where Nathaniel was or if he was all right. She worried for Chingachgook as well; he and Máxkwikee had not returned either, and she hoped that meant they were either still looking for Nathaniel, or that they had found him. Niankwe had taken two men with him early this morning to try to locate them now that there was no more danger of a storm. She felt helpless here, able to do nothing when all she really wanted to do was find her family. So she would wait, and while she waited she would do what good she could for the people here.

"Your husband has still not returned?" Wëlàhëne asked when she visited her son. The boy was coughing, but his fever had broken and not recurred.

"No. My father in-law and Máxkwikee stayed out to look for him. Chingachgook would not leave without his only remaining son."

"I am sorry," the young woman said softly. "We are not supposed to speak of the dead…but I remember Hawkeye's brother too. They came to stay with us most winters that I can recall, and we were the same age. They are good men. I hope they come back soon."

"Thank you. Some of the men went back out to look for them. I hope so too." Cora smiled wanly and took her leave, once again shoving the panic as far down as it would go so that she could remain functional. _Breathe in. Breathe out._ Kanshiopán grasped her hand comfortingly as she passed. She walked back toward the Mohican longhouse, finished with the visits for the day. As she approached, Niankwe's wife Asuwakàn ran to meet her.

"Cora!" she shouted. "There are men returning! Come quickly!" Cora's heart slammed into her throat as she grabbed her skirt in her fist and ran after Asuwakàn. She could see the men approaching the village from the forest, and she counted the shapes…six of them. _Nathaniel. Praise God and every sentient being._ She dropped her medical bag in the center of camp and kept running, caring nothing about the cold snow as she plowed through it. All she cared about was getting to the men and making sure Nathaniel and Chingachgook were unharmed. Nathaniel was walking next to his father, but when he caught sight of Cora running pell-mell toward them, calling his name and sending snow flying everywhere as she ran, he broke away and moved toward her. When he finally reached her, he fell to his knees in front of her, throwing his arms around her waist and burying his face against her blouse. She sank down into the snow and wrapped her arms around him, sobbing and kissing him all over his face, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I thought I had lost you…Oh, Nathaniel…I was so frightened."

"Never, _ndah_ ," he whispered raggedly. "I will never leave you. You stand in my soul, and I stand in yours…I will always find my way back to you." He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.

They stood up and she hugged Chingachgook tightly. " _Nshilihëlus_. I am so glad to see you are all right." She tearfully thanked all the men for their effort to get Nathaniel back safely as they walked into the camp. Picking up her forgotten medical bag, she embraced Nathaniel again, laying her head on his chest.

"We need to get you into dry clothes, and you need to eat and rest." she said.

"Yes…I want to rest, Cora, I am so tired. Everything hurts and I don't feel right…" He trailed off weakly as he leaned into her and pressed his face against her neck. It was then that she realized how abnormally hot his skin felt against hers. She pulled back and took a good look at him, pushing his hair away from his face and laying a hand to his forehead. His eyes looked glassy, and his face was drawn with exhaustion.

"My God, you're burning up, Nathaniel." She and Chingachgook exchanged a worried look. "How long have you felt like this?"

"Don't know for sure…last night maybe. I thought I was just tired and cold…couldn't tell what was what when I was half frozen out there."

"You are ill. Come, let us go home. We must get you warm and dry immediately."

Chingachgook went to the longhouse to change into dry clothes as well, promising he would fetch Kanshiopán and be along after Cora had time to get Nathaniel settled. Once they were back in their wigwam, she helped him strip off all the damp layers of clothing and change into dry items. He got into bed and she bundled him in the furs and blankets, then set about making a fire to warm the space and heat water to steep herbs in. Once that was done, she went back to the sleeping platform and sat down beside him, stroking his hair. He sighed and covered her hand with his.

"I'm so sorry to worry you so, _ndah_. I never meant for this to happen."

"You could not have known. The storm came so suddenly…I'm just so grateful you are back with me."

"I am, too…had to come back to you. But I didn't think I'd end up being one of your patients…I feel…miserable." He was beginning to shiver violently. She had seen this repeatedly for weeks now, and her heart plummeted into a new kind of worry. He was weakened by his ordeal, and if she could not control his symptoms, deadly lung fever would set in. She got up to start willow and dogwood bark steeping for him, tucking the bedding closer around him and softly kissing his forehead.

"Just rest, _mo chridhe_. I will be here with you. It is my turn to fight for you now."

_"I took the stars from our eyes,_

_and then I made a map_

_And knew that somehow_

_I could find my way back_

_Then I heard your heart beating,_

_You were in the darkness too_

_So I stayed in the darkness with you."_

_-Florence Welch Janet Summers-_

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Vocabulary for this chapter not explained in the text:

1\. Niitákhan: my older brother

2\. Nux: my father

3\. Asuwakàn: Song

4\. Nshilihëlus: my father in-law

Now you had to know Nathaniel and Chingachgook would make it home, right? I tried not to get too heavy on the waterworks drama with Cora. It's not really her style to collapse in a helpless blubbering pile, and she's pretty logical, but at the same time she would have to be pretty upset that the person she loves most in the world is missing God knows where in a freezing blizzard where a number of environmental factors could kill him pretty quickly. She thought they were done with all this danger and drama garbage, and now it turns out they're not, so she's understandably going to freak out a little bit at the possibility of losing both her husband and her father-in-law after she's already lost everyone else. But, thankfully, our guys are tough and resourceful and they managed to get back in one piece, and with a little extra help to boot. Except now Nathaniel is sick, so he's home safe, but not out of the woods just yet (and now they are really sitting in a corner glaring at me for being so mean to them).

Influenza ("grippe") was fairly common at this time, as was smallpox, but no way was I subjecting this village to a smallpox outbreak. Some influenza epidemics were mild and didn't kill too many people, and some were really bad – a particularly virulent one killed a lot of people around 1759 if I recall the timeline correctly. The one happening here is more of an isolated outbreak than a full-blown epidemic. Of course, nowadays the flu isn't usually that big a deal, but in 1757, you're looking at the very real danger of the accompanying cough developing into "lung fever", which was what they called pneumonia (viral or bacterial) back then. Nathaniel is in a particularly perilous situation here because his body's ability to fight this off has been severely compromised by the poor guy being stuck in a blizzard and getting half frozen out there. Cora has her work cut out for her. I can definitely see her having a panic attack every time Nathaniel goes hunting from here on out:

Nathaniel (trying to leave): "Cora, I have to hunt. We need meat."

Cora (wraps herself around his leg): "No! You'll die in a blizzard! Nooooooo!"

Nathaniel (drags her as he hobbles to the door): "Cora. It's the middle of July."

Humor aside, things got interesting in this chapter. There was no way Cora was getting a message from Alice without Nathaniel getting to see Uncas, too, so we have Nathaniel's dream/visitation and his furry little guide in the forest. I like the fox. I felt it was a neat way to imply that Nathaniel is getting some help from his brother through his namesake, and then the fox and the raven seeming to be in cahoots…well, who could that be? ;) The fox baring his teeth and grinning made me laugh, because it reminded me of an on-set film photo of Eric Schweig. He's standing there in nothing but a pair of pink shorts, with this tooth-baring, ferociously goofy grin on his face, and for some reason that's what I thought of when the fox grinned in the story. Uncas had a sense of humor, right? I'd imagine he did particularly with Nathaniel, since they are brothers.

This chapter got written much sooner than I usually manage to update (pretty much immediately after I published chapter 9) because in a rare time of me actually being proactive and responsible, I finished my coursework for the week early and had the whole weekend free to write – which is great since I have a final paper to write this coming week and would not have been able to work on and post chapter 10 when I normally would. Thank you all for reading, I hope you're still enjoying the story, and the mysterious little visits from Uncas and Alice. Will there be more? Will Nathaniel weather his perilous bout with influenza? Stay tuned…


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cora faces the very real fear of losing Nathaniel to pneumonia, and she and Chingachgook share comfort and support. Meanwhile, Nathaniel has a profound experience in the midst of being deathly ill.

**Chapter 11**

_"How did we lose this great wrath_

_Everything burns in our path_

_The balance we broke_

_Left us running through smoke_

_You're at the blue light of the flame_

_As the earth melts at the poles_

_I race to man the controls_

_And I work harder, fiercer and smarter_

_You're at the blue light of the flame"_

_-Dar Williams-_

**FYI Vocabulary: Catarrh was the word generally used for a cough in the 18** **th** **century.**

_December 24, 1757_

"How is Hawkeye this morning, _naxëm_?" Chingachgook asked as he cautiously entered the wigwam.

"Worse," Cora replied flatly. "The fever is high, and the catarrh is getting more severe." She gazed worriedly at Nathaniel, who slept fitfully on the platform, his face flushed and his skin hot and dry. He had been drifting in and out of sleep for the last two days, Cora waking him at regular intervals during which she administered herbal remedies or made him drink water and eat a little. While he slept, she wiped his face and body down with a cool cloth, trying to reduce the fever, but it just seemed to keep spiking hotter again despite all her efforts. The cough had set in fast and brutal, and the rough rattle of his breathing split her heart open with fear, especially when the coughing fits came and he could not catch his breath. Onion and garlic poultices helped loosen and ease it, but the congestion itself was getting worse; she could hear it when she placed her ear against his chest. Kanshiopán had been in and out as she could; she was seeing to the other sick by herself now that Cora was caring for Nathaniel, but she visited each morning and evening. "I was just going to wake him. We need to take him to the sweat lodge again," she said. "Can you help me?"

"Of course." He waited and observed with silent appreciation for her tender, fastidious care of his son as she leaned over Nathaniel, gently stroking his hair and speaking softly to him to rouse him. He woke slowly, groggy, and she helped him sit up. They wrapped him in warm blankets and supporting him together, ushered him out of the wigwam and to the sweat lodge. Cora had brought with her a bucket full of the herb-infused water she had made to use for sweats; the herbs along with the hot steam would soothe the cough and help relieve the body aches, and hopefully help to break the fever as it had for many others. They stopped briefly as the cold air triggered a coughing fit. Cora and Chingachgook looked at each other with mutual concern as Nathaniel drew in a rattling breath and coughed again. When it had subsided, they kept moving until they arrived at the small domed structures on the outskirts of the village – one for the women and one for the men. Cora set the kettle down inside the small door while Chingachgook helped Nathaniel through the entrance. She took hot stones from the fire next to the hut and rolled them into the structure with a stick via a small flapped opening in the wall; the herb water in the kettle would be ladled over them to create the steam. Once Nathaniel was settled in, she and Chingachgook waited outside by the fire so that they could periodically exchange cooled stones for fresh hot ones.

"Nathaniel told me…about his dream," she said softly. "What he saw. How he found his way to you after."

Chingachgook met her gaze, the deep furrows in his forehead cutting lines across the serpent tattooed above his weathered brow. "He told me of yours as well, _naxëm_. Perhaps not dreams so much as they are visions and visitations, and powerful ones."

"That is what Kanshiopán says as well. I have never known anything like this before. It seems so…impossible. Yet it happened, and I am left in wonder that such things can be."

"Our people believe that after death, a spirit may move on to paradise, but some may linger to help those living on earth. It is not so difficult to believe, is it? If you consider how much Hawkeye and Uncas loved one another…how much you and your sister loved one another. The spirit world is a realm unknown to us, but there are messengers who speak to us if we listen, and perhaps when there is such great love, the bond can transcend what we believe is possible. Perhaps when our hearts have been fractured by grief, it makes them open enough to receive those messages when they come in any form to help us."

Cora's breath hitched, finding great beauty and comfort in his sentiments. "I am inclined to agree, as I have seen it myself. Have you…have you seen Uncas as well?"

"Not in such a way, no," he said sadly. "But I have dreamed of him often. And I have seen what has happened these past days, and I believe that through the workings of the _manetu_ and _Mánáka'has_ he saved his brother's life, just as Hawkeye believes and knows this. It was my great joy when Uncas lived to see how deeply they loved each other. It is a strange kind of joy, too, to see that their bond still lives even when Uncas does not. Before, my joy in them simply existed in a place in my heart that was reserved for it. Now…grief for my blood son has carved a deep well within me, and that strange joy settles into the well, beginning to fill it when I thought that nothing could. I despaired to think that I might lose both of my sons…but one delivered the other from death and guided him back to me. So I have not seen him as Hawkeye has…but he has given me a gift all the same." His dark eyes overflowed and a tear tracked down his face. Cora said nothing, only took his hand in hers in empathy, for she had received the same gift from Uncas, and he had sacrificed his life for her sister.

"I am so very afraid for Nathaniel now," she confessed on a whisper. "I have not been able to bring myself to say it aloud, but I think I must before I go mad keeping it locked away. The fever will not break, and the catarrh and his breathing…I fear lung fever is already setting in. I am doing everything I can for him, but I spend every waking moment in terror that it will not be enough…" the last came on a soft sob as the panic took over at last. Chingachgook grasped her hands in his.

"I know your mind, _naxëm_ , and I am afraid for him as well. I must believe that he did not survive the storm only to be taken from the world by sickness. I must believe that, and you must believe it."

She met his eyes. "I fear for him out of love. Because our souls are entwined and our hearts beat as one. I fight to make him well out of the same love, and because he fought for me. I will see him through this if it is the last thing I do."

When Nathaniel was through with the sweat, Cora doused him outside with cold water, then helped him wrap up in the blankets again so they could go back to the wigwam. Once there, Chingachgook took his leave after Cora assured him she was all right by herself. She sat Nathaniel by the fire to dry and stay warm, giving him water to drink and a concoction of the medicinal herbs she had been using to treat his symptoms. When he was done drying, she helped him back to bed. The steam bath had calmed the cough for now, and he fell asleep, exhausted. Cora stayed with him, vigilant, hoping that the sweat would help break the fever this time, but it still did not. As the hours passed, he grew frighteningly hot again, and by afternoon he was drifting in and out of sleep, mumbling incoherently. He was only ever partially awake, and was not lucid; at one point he seemed to think they were back in the stockade at Fort William Henry, and told her to stay close to her father and the other officers. Her stomach knotted, sick with worry. Chingachgook came periodically to keep her company, bringing her food to make sure she ate. Kanshiopán came to check on them at sunset, and Cora anxiously apprised her of the situation.

"This is not good," she said. "His fever is burning too hot and making him delirious."

"I do not know what else I can do for him," Cora said, her voice wavering. "I have tried everything that is in my power or knowledge to do, and so have you."

"We must keep trying. He would be much worse without our effort. If the fever is going to break, it will break soon. If it does not…"

Cora shook her head. "Do not speak of it. I cannot even think it. I have lost enough, and I _will not_ lose my husband."

"If it does not break, I will bring our holy man to him. Perhaps he can draw the sickness out."

When the older woman had left, she took a clean cloth and a copper basin of water to the bedside. She soaked the cloth and bathed him, wetting his body and hair to try again to ease the burning fever. She passed the cloth over his face and brow with gentle caresses, her other hand stroking his damp hair, curling from the moisture. He stirred and turned his face against her palm, his cheek rough with several days' growth of beard. Cora gazed down at him. He looked so drawn, so vulnerable, so different from the hale, graceful power she was used to. She felt bone-tired and defenseless, and it was getting more and more difficult to hold her emotions in check the worse he became. She was overwhelmed with it all, first from the initial fear of losing him to the snowstorm, and now this. He truly did stand in her soul, and if he was taken from her, she knew it would annihilate her, that she would surely die with him. She wanted to scream, to rail against the unfairness of it – had they not been through enough already? She thought that perhaps she could finally begin to understand the workings of Alice's devastated mind in those last moments. If she had loved Uncas this way, the terror and uncertainty of her future in that instant must have seemed unbearable without him. He had been her last hope, and had not been able to stay with her, and so she had gone with him. _Would I have done the same if it had been Nathaniel?_ Silent tears slipped down her cheeks as she set the basin and cloth aside and lay down next to him, laying her head on his chest. More tears fell as she listened to the croupy, labored sound of his breathing, and the weak, thready pulsing of his heartbeat.

"Please, Nathaniel…please fight this. Please stay with me," she whispered, her voice breaking in a quiet sob as she wept in a tidal wave of helpless trepidation. She lay with him wrapped in her arms, silently praying. Her exhaustion eventually overtook her, and she fell asleep curled against him, one arm wrapped around him protectively. When Chingachgook came to check on them before retiring for the evening, he found them this way. His heart ached for his daughter-in-law, because he knew her anguish matched his own, and he had felt it himself when Wah-ta-Wah had become sick and then died. The memory of it coupled with the rising tide of dread that came with the same thing happening to his only remaining son was suffocating. He swallowed the lump rising in his throat and laid a blanket over Cora. He had never been much for Christianity or the Bible, but at this moment he could only think of something the minister had read at Nathaniel and Cora's wedding. _Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is far above rubies…the heart of her husband doth safely trust in her…she will do him good and not evil all the days of her life…strength and honor are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in the time to come._

"He loves you so, _naxëm_ …and I could not have hoped more for my son to find a wife who would love and care for him as you do," he whispered.

He left the wigwam quietly, and as he turned in the direction of the longhouse, he caught a flash of red from the corner of his eye. Sitting sentinel to the left of the wigwam, the fox observed him with its luminous amber eyes. Eyes the color of the life-blood of the forest. He did not move or breathe as the animal rose and stepped through the snow to his side. It gently butted its head against his leg, and then in a flash it bounded off toward the forest, leaving Chingachgook staring after it in silent awe, twin trails of tears glinting on his face in the moonlight.

* * *

_Nathaniel slowly became aware of the voice. It came faintly at first, as if across some great divide, and then in a sudden, breezy rush it was close by him._

_"_ _Niitákhan. Open your eyes and see."_

_He came awake to find that he stood on the mountaintop where he and his father had said their final goodbye to his brother with Cora standing at his side. It looked different somehow, felt different. Suffused with odd light and not quite…real. That day, the wind had whipped against the three of them, cold and merciless as if it carried their grief on it. Now it was ethereally quiet and still. How had he come to be here?_

_"_ _I am dreaming," he said to himself._

 _"_ _In a way." The unmistakable deep richness of the voice sent his heart leaping into his throat as he slowly turned his head to look at the man who had stepped onto the ledge beside him. Uncas, whole and free of injury. His raven hair streamed down his back, his face as calm and benevolent as it had always been. Nathaniel looked into his dark eyes in disbelief. He closed his eyes again briefly and swallowed hard. How desperately he had longed to hear the sound of his brother's voice even one more time, yearned for the familiar comfort of his presence. This did not seem possible, could not be real. But this did not feel like the nightmares did. Here, he could hear and feel and see. He reached out to touch Uncas's shoulder, sure he would disappear, but he did not. Real? He sucked in a breath, tears pricking his eyes._

 _"_ _Am I dead this time?" he whispered._

 _"_ _No. You hang onto life yet, but you are gravely ill."_

 _"_ _You are between worlds." He turned at the sound of the soft, feminine voice. Alice. She stepped up beside his brother and smiled shyly at him. Her golden hair and hazel eyes were the same as he remembered, but she was different. Peaceful. No more fear in her, no more sadness._

 _"_ _It was you. Both of you. Cora's dream…in the storm…"_

_Uncas grinned, in the way he had always reserved solely for Nathaniel. "Couldn't let you die out there, could I? Father needs you. Your wife needs you. One day your children will need you. You're not done with that world yet, niitákhan."_

_"_ _No. But I never wanted for you to be done with it either," Nathaniel said, grief and regret like an iron band around his chest. "Or you, Alice. If we could have gotten to you faster, if we could have just...I failed you, and it tears me to pieces. Every time I see it on our father's face, every time I feel Cora's heart break. I failed you both."_

 _"_ _Do not blame yourself," Uncas said firmly. "You never could have left Cora, I never would have asked you to. No more than you or father would have ever asked me to leave Alice to that fate. I made my choice to go alone because I love her. You have no fault in my parting from that world. I would have rather died fighting for her than to ever leave her, and you would have done the same for Cora. You nearly did."_

_Nathaniel looked at them, tears spilling over down his face. "I won't ever stop wishing it could have been different for you both. I miss my brother. Cora misses her sister."_

_Alice looked at him sadly and took one of his hands in hers. "Please tell her, Nathaniel, that I am sorry to cause her such pain. Tell her that I love her, and I am at peace, and that I want her to be as well. That I will always be with her in some way, she has only to look and listen. She loves you so, and she is so frightened for you now. You must go back to her. You must take care of her, and love her as you always have."_

_"_ _I will tell her. I would never leave her, Alice. Not if I could help it. Not then, not now. Just as my brother would not leave you, or you him."_

_Uncas laid a hand on his shoulder. "Our time here runs short, and we must go back. Tell father that I love him, and I will see him again one day. We are all waiting for him, but he has more to do before he comes to us."_

_"_ _No. This is not long enough. I don't want you to go." Nathaniel put his arms around his brother. Solid. Real in this place, so real he could feel the fabric of his shirt under his hands. It was not long enough, and it never would be. "I love you, and I miss you every damned day." His voice broke in anguish._

 _"_ _I love you too, brother, and I'm sorry I cannot stay with you. We must go now, and it is time for you to leave this place. I will not see you this way again, but know that we are all around you. In the stars, in the forest, on the wind, in all the places we have walked and breathed. Always."_

_Uncas let him go and they both stepped back from him. The world around him grew hazy and began to fade, and he felt as if he were dissolving along with it. At first he fought it, reaching for his brother, calling his name, but everything faded quickly as he became aware of being somewhere else now. Warm arms wrapped around him, and a familiar, heavenly softness pressed against his side._

_"_ _Nathaniel…Nathaniel…wake up…"_

* * *

"Not long enough…I don't want you to go…Uncas…Uncas!"

"Nathaniel?" Cora woke with a start at the sound of his voice, hoarse with emotion. The sky was gray in the smoke hole with the dawning of day. She sat up and touched his face. "Nathaniel, wake up." Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes, and he was sweating profusely. Sweating. _Sweating._ The fever had broken at last. He opened his eyes and launched into a coughing fit. She helped him sit up while it passed. When it was over, he took a ragged breath and focused on her.

"Uncas…" he rasped.

"You were dreaming. Calling him."

He shook his head and closed his eyes, fresh tears falling. "No. It wasn't…he was there. They both were. I don't know how…"

"Both? What do you mean, both?" _Is it the fever?_ She thought, concerned.

"Alice. She was with him."

Her heart constricted in her chest. "I don't understand, Nathaniel. What do you mean, they were _there_?" Her voice shook with emotion, unsure of whether to worry that he was still suffering from delirium. He slowly explained what he had seen, what Uncas had said to him, and what Alice had told him to tell her. When he finished, she was crying with him, trembling all over. She threw her arms around him, caring nothing for the fact that he was a damp, sweaty mess from the breaking of the fever. "I don't know what to think. With all the strange things that we have seen…oh, my Alice, my Alice!" she sobbed brokenly. They held each other for a long time, both of them processing his very surreal experience. "The fever was so severe, Nathaniel…we almost lost you to it. I thought I could never be more frightened than I was when you were caught in that storm, but these last few days, especially yesterday…I could believe that you…that you were somewhere else for a time." She pulled back, stroking his damp hair off his face, rejoicing in how much cooler his skin felt today, hoping to God that this meant the worst was finally over. "How do you feel?"

"Thirsty. Hungry. Too damn warm. Like a mule kicked me in the chest. How long…what day is it?"

She thought for a moment, all the days having run together by now, and suddenly let out an odd laugh that ended in a sob and more tears. "It's Christmas Day!" she cried. She had been so preoccupied that she had completely forgotten Christmas. Alice's favorite holiday. How fitting, she thought, that she should have given Nathaniel the gift of her message to carry back with him today, of all days. She kissed him and touched her forehead to his. "Oh, Nathaniel. I love you so. I was terrified. I did everything I could, everything, and I thought I was going to lose you."

He touched her cheek and kissed her nose. "I told you, _ndah_ , I am not going anywhere. And I will always find my way back to you. Always."

She sighed shakily. "You need to eat. And drink. And I need to make your medicine." She got up from the sleeping platform and gave him water. "I'll go see to breakfast and bring you something to eat. I need to get your father too." She kissed him and went out toward the longhouse, stopping in her tracks when she heard the familiar rough croak of a raven. Two of them sat atop the wigwam, watching her intently. In a burst of motion, they took off from their roosting spot, cawing as they wheeled into the air and flew away into the forest.

"Happy Christmas, Alice," she whispered.

_"Do not stand at my grave and weep_   
_I am not there. I do not sleep._   
_I am a thousand winds that blow._   
_I am the diamond glints on snow._   
_I am the sunlight on ripened grain._   
_I am the gentle autumn rain._   
_When you awaken in the morning's hush_   
_I am the swift uplifting rush_   
_Of quiet birds in circled flight._   
_I am the soft stars that shine at night._   
_Do not stand at my grave and cry;_   
_I am not there. I did not die."_

_-Mary Elizabeth Frye-_

* * *

**Author's Note:**

It feels silly to admit how many times I cried while writing this chapter. Most of the feelings these characters have are ones I am too familiar with, which is always a by-product of the losses we suffer in this life. Yesterday I found out that a friend of 21 years had died unexpectedly. This is the second loss in as many months of someone who massively impacted my life, and I have no doubt it will hit me like a truck later – it already has in some ways.

So here I've given Chingachgook and Cora some rather emotional time together, which they haven't had for a while. In this situation he knows exactly how she feels, and they are both scared. The symptoms I've given Nathaniel are congruent with viral pneumonia secondary to influenza, and without modern medicine, viral pneumonia can kill swiftly. Obviously it didn't kill Nathaniel, but he'll definitely need to take it easy for a while. I keep thinking to myself that Cora must have an iron-clad immune system to be as heavily exposed as she is to Nathaniel and not get sick too – but some people just do, and it's likely with her low-level exposure in the village that her immune system would feasibly have had time to build up enough antibodies that she really wouldn't get sick. Unfortunately, that also probably means she's the one who brought the virus home to Nathaniel, whose immune system was subsequently compromised by freezing half to death – but people didn't know that then. The treatments that Cora and Kanshiopán use likely did save his life – white willow bark contains salicin, which is a chemical similar to aspirin, so that would help the body aches, would knock down the inflammation in his lungs and airway, and would even help the fever somewhat. Hyssop and horehound are both herbs extremely beneficial for coughs, dogwood bark (much like Jesuit bark for malaria) was a mainstay for treatment of fevers, and onion/garlic poultices have been used for hundreds of years to treat deep-seated coughs that come with bronchitis and pneumonia. The steam from sitting in a sweat lodge also was truly beneficial to the sick, especially with a cough (What do you do with a croupy kid? You sit in a steamy hot bathroom). Most Indian cultures used and still use sweat lodges for both spiritual and health reasons.

And then we have Nathaniel's encounter during the fever. It seemed like a good time for a door between worlds to be opened, in a sense. For them to get some closure and hit a kind of turning point maybe. That section was a highly sensitive area for me for several reasons. I'm not sure what else to say about it except I hope it came out all right because I really wanted someone to have a chance to actually talk to Uncas and Alice, and Nathaniel was the it-man when he got deathly ill. One might wonder that I didn't have Nathaniel ask Alice why she jumped, and my honest answer is that suicide is awful and sad, and I didn't want to go into that. Cora's thoughts about it are enough to make some sense out of it, and what I wanted for Nathaniel's encounter was for him to be able to tell Cora that Alice loves her and is with his brother in a good place. Something that would comfort her, not make her feel worse. As for the two ravens on top of the wigwam at the end - here's an interesting fact: Corvids (ravens and crows) usually mate for life. Unless something happens to one of them, they will generally pair off with the same mate year after year. So there you go. :)

Thank you for reading, I am always so glad to see that people like this story, and I was really happy to see the lovely and positive responses to chapter 10, because I love that chapter too, but I was never sure if I was taking the story somewhere too odd and transcendental. Stay tuned for more in the coming week or so.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relief and affirmation occur as Nathaniel recovers from his illness, and other developments occur around the Delaware village.

**Chapter 12**

_Hope has two beautiful daughters;_

_their names are Anger and Courage._

_Anger at the way things are,_

_and Courage to see that they do not remain as they are."_

_-St. Augustine-_

**Fair Warning: There is explicit sexual content in this chapter.**

_January 20, 1758_

"This stuff is heinous," Nathaniel remarked, finishing a cup of the bitter herb mixture Cora had given him. He set the empty cup down and took a sip of water to wash the lingering taste away. She dropped a kiss on his head as she walked past him sitting on the sleeping platform and laughed lightly.

"I know, but it's helping, and you still need it for just a bit longer yet."

"I suppose it's better than smelling like a pot of stew after one of your poultices," he joked.

"Oh come now, you smelled delicious." She laughed again, the musical sound making him tingle pleasantly. She had been so worried about him lately that he didn't think he'd seen her smile or heard her laugh in weeks. She went to the fire in the center hearth and took a hot stone from the edge with a pair of wooden tongs, dropping it into a pot of water to heat it quickly. Nathaniel watched her intently, thinking she was the only woman he'd ever known who could make such a mundane task look so alluring. It likely had something to do with the fact that she wore only a linen shift, as they had just returned from the sweat lodge, where they had each taken a steam and then a quick lather and hair-washing with soap before rinsing off.

After four weeks, he was finally feeling normal again. The cough lingered a bit but was in the last stages of fading off, and the soreness in his ribs from all the coughing had resolved. The fever had not returned after it had broken, and the worst of the fatigue and congestion had passed after two weeks. Cora had been by his side throughout, religiously pumping him full of herbal remedies and applying onion and garlic poultices to his chest. While none of this was particularly pleasant (or fragrant), it did help, and though he could make light of it now that he was better and out of danger, he knew Cora's dedication had saved his life and he was immensely grateful for her care. She had given of herself exhaustively and without complaint to see him through, and he loved her more than ever for never giving up hope, for fighting so hard for him. He was one kind of warrior, who fought human enemies with martial skill, with rifle and blade and cunning; but she was another kind, one who fought death and suffering with well-honed knowledge, with faith and courage and perseverance, and she was no less formidable than he in that regard.

The water in the pot sufficiently warm, she poured some of it into the washbasin and brought it to where Nathaniel sat, along with his straight razor box and a bar of lavender soap that she and Sarah had made before they had left the farm. He badly needed a shave; he hadn't bothered with it all this time, and as a result he now had the thick and rather scruffy beginnings of a beard. Neither he or Cora could quite get used to it, but his father seemed to find it hilarious, joking about the worth of the pelt on his face. Chingachgook and Uncas had never had to worry about facial hair, and Nathaniel had never let his grow for more than a few days before now. He moved to take the razor and soap from Cora, but instead she placed the basin in his hands.

"Let me," she offered softly. He acquiesced, thinking it probably would be better since she could see everywhere that needed the razor better than he could, and he trusted her precise, steady hands. She soaked a cloth with the hot water and wet his face and neck, then lathered the area with the soap, waiting for the rough whiskers to soften while she sharpened the razor on the strop in the lid of the wooden box. Standing in front of him, she lifted his chin with her fingers and began the task with slow, careful strokes. He watched her face while she worked, her brow pinched in concentration, her full pink lips slightly pursed. His eyes traveled downward. Her hair was still drying from her bath, cascading over her shoulders in waves. The moisture from it left her linen shift damp and caused it to cling to her skin, giving him a tantalizing view of what lay beneath. His body stirred in aching response to it; and to her proximity, to the gentle caresses of her fingers on his face and neck contrasting with the scrape of the razor, to the scent of the lavender in the soap and on her hair and body that would forever remind him of their wedding night. It had been a month since he'd gotten ill, slightly longer than that since he had made love to his wife, and he was currently feeling that length of time with a roaring vengeance.

Cora finished Nathaniel's shave, rinsing and drying the razor before putting it away, while he wiped the remainder of the soap lather away with the warm wet cloth. She set the water basin aside and sat down beside him, meeting his gaze in mesmerized silence. The sunlight from the smoke hole above hit his captivating eyes in a way that showed every color in them beneath his heavy dark brows and sooty lashes - the deep blue-green rims of the irises, the variegated green in the centers, and the golden-amber rings around the pupils. A flash of heat rippled across them as they moved to her softly parted lips, then back to her eyes. Her heart hammered and her skin began to tingle. It felt like an age since he had been well enough to look at her this way, and her body responded with a jolt of fiery longing to feel his intimate touch again. "Does that feel better?" she whispered.

"Why don't you tell me," he replied huskily. He reached out and threaded his fingers into her hair at the nape of her neck as he leaned over and brushed his now smooth cheek along hers. Nuzzling her neck beneath her ear, his lips caressed the sensitive skin on the spot there that always made her shiver with pleasure; this time was no exception. She released a soft sigh and tilted her head back for more, already feeling the aching pulse of desire blooming at her core as he murmured against her ear. "You smell so good…like you did the first time I made love to you... _Nusheyëm…katalël…"_ Her insides turned to liquid fire at his hushed words. _My wife…I want you._ God, how she wanted him, too. She rose to her knees in front of him on the platform and drew her shift over her head.

A ferocious, primitive surge of arousal shot through Nathaniel like a lightning strike as he watched Cora strip off the linen shift and toss it carelessly aside. Her dark eyes burned with a hunger that matched his, her bared skin flushing pink as her breath quickened. He rose to his own knees, his hands coming to her shoulders, thumbs stroking along her collarbones as he drew her to him and fervently claimed her lips. She felt like a benediction, washing over him in a wave of grace with her softness, her strength, her passion, all so beautiful to him. Her tongue met his with languid strokes, her hands flattening against his chest and gliding over his skin, her fingers gently playing over the taut muscle of his abdomen. Finding the tie on the strip of leather that held his breechcloth in place, she deftly released it with a swift pull and the garment fell away, leaving all of him to her. His hands moved downward to cup her breasts, the supple roundness of each small, high-tipped swell fitting just so into his palms. He grazed the pads of his thumbs in circles over her nipples, feeling them harden at the teasing touch, feeling his own arousal heighten as she moaned quietly and arched against him skin to skin. Her fingers curled against his shoulder blades, his hardness pressing against the velvety skin of her belly as he pulled her down onto the platform bedding on top of him.

Cora trailed kisses over Nathaniel's jawline, nipping here and there, enjoying the low hums of pleasure he emitted as she worked her way downward, her hands following her mouth over the lithe, lean muscle of his chest and abdomen. So much lethal grace, so much breathtaking power in him, and yet so much tenderness too. He had lost weight from his illness and she could see his ribs and hip bones more prominently now, but regardless he was still exquisite to her as she touched him devoutly, rejoicing in her husband well and warm and so alive beneath her, wanting to love him all over. He sucked in a breath as she feathered kisses over the silky length of his erection, groaning softly when she flicked her tongue over the sensitive tip. She slid her hands up his torso again and moved over him, kissing the muscular divot at the crest of his hip, over his ribs, his shoulder, letting her hair whisper softly across his skin as she pressed against his side, her lips finishing their erotic journey at the hollow of his throat.

" _Wèlsit_ ," she whispered. _Beautiful one._ With a ragged exhale, he turned to his side and slanted his mouth over hers, pulling her against him as his hand ran roughshod through her hair, then down her back and over the curve of her hip. He gripped her thigh gently, bringing her leg up over his waist, opening her to him. His fingers sought the apex of her thighs and brushed lightly over her center, then dipped between the folds, sliding tortuously along her wetness to find that most sensitive spot. She gave a gratifying mewl of pleasure when he began to stroke her there, drawing short, panting breaths as he brought her closer and closer to the edge. He kissed along the tender flesh of her throat, seeking each place he knew drove her senses wild, delighting in the little sounds that emitted from her in response to how he loved her. Her climax came swiftly and forcefully, her hips arching against his hand as she buried her face in his shoulder to stifle her frantic cry.

Coming out of her languid haze, Cora met Nathaniel's burning gaze. She plunged her fingers into his hair, running her thumbs along his jaw, and kissed him with a sigh, curling her leg tighter around his hip to bring the hard column of him against where she still pulsed with the longing to feel him completely. "Nathaniel…" she breathed, "I love you…please…I need you…" With a guttural moan, he crushed his lips to hers, sinking himself into her at last.

"God, I've missed you like this," he rasped, capturing her mouth once more as she ardently returned his kiss, answering the driving need to move against him as he moved inside of her. His hand grasped her hip, his thrusts slow and deep and achingly deliberate, the feel of each stroke within her sending waves of pleasure rippling through her core. Their breath came in desperate pants as their movements grew more urgent, the rapturous sensation rising steadily to a fever pitch that soon sent them spinning into a free fall of fulfillment together. Overcome with the corporeal release - and with it the liberation of the weeks-long fear that she might lose him forever - she cried out his name on a gasping sob, her tears washing onto his skin where her face was pressed against his neck. His own body still trembling with the aftershock, Nathaniel drew back and kissed away the wet tracks on her cheeks as she held him fiercely. He framed her face with his hands, holding her glittering dark gaze with intensity. " _Ktahwáanun._ I'm here, _ndah._ I am here to stay."

* * *

Later that afternoon, a celebration was held. It was a twofold affair – partly to celebrate the end of the influenza outbreak and the leaving of those wicked spirits of illness from the village since now all who were sick had at last recovered, and partly to celebrate the rising of the maple sap. It had come unseasonably early this year due to oddly fluctuating temperatures the last two weeks; typically, Chingachgook explained, the temperature was not right for tapping the trees until February, or even March some years, but the nature of these things was never completely predictable. Cora was fascinated with the whole process, from the tapping of the trees to collect the sweet sap to the boiling down and making of syrup and maple sugar. Sarah had used maple sugar at the farm and had explained it to her, but it had not been the right season to tap, so she hadn't ever seen it done. The women here used maple sugar and the sticky-sweet syrup as well, using it in food for some meals as well as to make a rather tasty food bar from cornmeal, chestnuts, and dried berries.

"What are they doing there?" she asked Nathaniel and Chingachgook, pointing as they walked past a group of adults and children. One of the women was pouring something from a pot over the snow, and the children subsequently taking turns picking it up and gleefully eating it.

"They're making snow candy," he replied with a grin, pulling her over to the group so they could watch. "See there, she pours the hot syrup over the snow and the cold makes it turn into a soft candy." The woman poured another batch and smiled at them, inviting them to take some.

"This is delicious!" Cora said, chewing with a delighted smile.

"You can make shaped sweets with a wooden mold, too," Nathaniel told her. "Uncas loved this stuff, remember, father? He went mad for it."

"I do," Chingachgook replied, taking a bite with a fond chuckle. "I seem to remember the two of you getting into trouble one winter when he convinced you to help him raid the storeroom for syrup."

"I was taller," Nathaniel laughed, "so I could reach the jugs. But one fell over and spilled everywhere, and father caught us in there, covered in sticky syrup from head to toe. It took the whole afternoon to get it out of our hair and clothes."

"Two little tricksters, they were. I often wondered what I'd resigned myself to, naming my son after the wily fox. And this one with his sharp tongue!" he gestured at Nathaniel and they both laughed. "Lucky for him, his eyes are just as sharp, and that is what he was named for instead." He squeezed his son's shoulder affectionately.

Cora felt warm inside watching and listening to them. Lately they both seemed to be able to recall more pleasant memories, and it made her happy to see them with more inner peace. She felt it too. Somehow all the odd events surrounding the snowstorm and Nathaniel's illness had brought them through a kind of middle ground in the nebulous grief experience, and things felt a little lighter most of the time compared to the first several months, but the of course the waves still came. They always would. All three of them would carry this forever, and none were naïve enough to think it would ever completely disappear. In so many ways they were grateful for one another's presence and empathy in their shared grief, and the way it had changed everything for them. And so too, they were grateful for the mystical occurrences that had offered the gift of some closure, and with that the little surge of recognition and soaring of the heart whenever one of them spied a flash of red fur or heard the caw of a crow or raven. The birds had a particular attachment to Cora, and there always seemed to be one or two around when she was about the village, or roosting atop their wigwam. Sometimes they brought her things, a bead or shell or a shiny piece of metal or cloth picked up from who knew where. She kept them all in a little buckskin bag that she wore around her neck over her heart, including the uniform button from the graveyard. Today, in honor of the celebratory mood, she had also worn the Rainbow Crow moccasins Chingachgook had given her for her wedding day, with her warm leggings beneath her buckskin dress.

They moved on into the crowd, adults talking and children playing and roughhousing in the snow in the center of the village. Friends greeted them, and Cora took note of every one of her patients who was now well, thankful the influenza had taken no more lives than the four early on, and none of the children. She made sure to find Wëlàhëne to thank her – she had come several times during the last few weeks to visit Cora and ask after Nathaniel's health, often bringing food or other small tokens of appreciation for Cora's help with her son, who was now fully recovered and playing in the snow with the other children.

"Hawkeye, _nchu_ , it is good to see you up and about these recent days!" Máxkwikee called out, coming over to them to throw a friendly arm around Nathaniel. "We missed you on yesterday's hunt." Some of the men had gone out yesterday and had come back with several deer, but Nathaniel was not quite fully recovered and not physically ready for it, and he had agreed with Cora that it was best not to tempt fate just yet.

"I missed being there as well," Nathaniel replied wistfully, "perhaps the next time. For now, I must stay well, and try not to worry my wife to death again so soon." He winked at Cora and squeezed her against his side.

"Yes, I believe I've had my full measure of that these many weeks. Thank goodness all is well now. I am glad for a successful hunt, but I cannot say I am sorry that Hawkeye did not join you this time," Cora said with a wry smile.

"I would imagine so." Máxkwikee laughed and patted her shoulder. "I am glad that my old friend has a good wife who cares for him so. Perhaps his great devotion to you will temper his inclination toward too much adventure in the future, eh?"

"One might hope, but Hawkeye is Hawkeye, after all," she said, her lips quirking. "I don't know what I shall do with him but love him as he is." She kissed his cheek.

They talked a little more and then moved on, socializing with other friends as they all ate by the big fire, enjoying stew made with dried vegetables and the fresh meat from yesterday's hunt – a rare treat in winter months – as well as cornmeal bread and beans. Kanshiopán joined them, remarking happily on Nathaniel's health, at which he embraced her, thanking her for her help and her support of Cora and his father while he was ill. Her companionship and willingness to work with Cora all this time had been invaluable to her in making her feel like she belonged here, and he knew it had meant the world to her to have someone to talk with her and mentor her, especially concerning her medical practice and all these strange dreams and visitations they had experienced. Though his fever had broken after all, because of the visions Kanshiopán had still brought the holy man, whose name was Lashimu, to them soon after. He had done for them a ceremony to drive out the evil spirit he believed was causing the sickness, and had talked with them at length about the things they had dreamed and seen. Lashimu had unusual gifts in the realm of dreams and visions, as many holy men did; he had since boyhood, and had been named _He Dreams_ accordingly. He believed that their recent experiences held great power and significance, and had wanted to know everything leading up to the first dream Cora had had before the snowstorm, and everything that had happened after that. He had subsequently given Cora the name Ahasxkwe, meaning _Crow Woman_. She was far too humble to use it widely, but it pleased her, and it pleased Nathaniel and Chingachgook as well – she had been given her place among their people, not just as the wife of Hawkeye or the daughter-in-law of Chingachgook, but as one of them in her own right, and as a healer who had done a great service to them in a time of illness.

The day began to wane, and while Nathaniel was having a good time being out among the festivities, he was fading as well.

"Are you tired, _mo chridhe_?" Cora asked, slipping an arm around him.

"I am, and it's getting colder. As much as I am enjoying this, it would probably be wise to go home and retire for the evening."

He stood and she took his hand and rose to go with him. They bid their goodbyes to Kanshiopán, and to Niankwe and Asuwakàn who had been sitting with them as well, and ventured back to their wigwam hand in hand. Chingachgook remained behind with Kanshiopán and the others to bask in the friendly company of his people for a while longer. When the sun had set and the temperature grew cold enough to start shutting down and heading back to respective dwellings, Kanshiopán and Chingachgook walked together, talking.

"I wish to thank you again for your part in keeping my son from death these past weeks," he said. "My daughter-in-law is skilled and dedicated, but it was not easy for her to face the possibility of him being taken from her…nor was it easy for me. You eased the burden for us both with your knowledge and your kind companionship, and I am very grateful to you."

Kanshiopán stopped and smiled gently, her dark eyes luminous in the winter moonlight. "I have known you many years now, and your sons too. I have often admired your strength, and your great love for your sons, who you raised into men as admirable as yourself." Her voice grew soft. "You and I have both known the loss of a spouse greatly loved. And now you have known the loss of your blood son. I did what I could to help your daughter-in-law, because I could not bear to see you lose your other son. Or to see her lose her husband as I lost mine. As you lost your wife."

Chingachgook sighed and seemed to be thinking gravely about something, and then to come to some conclusion. He tentatively reached out and took Kanshiopán's hand in his, and they continued walking in silence. When they reached his longhouse, they stopped again, and they looked at each other for a long moment, neither speaking, the air taking on a palpable charge between them.

"I am not looking for another wife," he stated quietly.

"I am not looking for another husband," she replied.

"Then we understand one another." They both smiled knowingly, and him keeping her hand, they continued into the longhouse together.

_"Last night the rain spoke to me slowly,_

_Saying, what joy to come falling out of the brisk cloud,_

_To be happy again in a new way on the earth!_

_That's what it said as it dropped, smelling of iron,_

_And vanished like a dream of the ocean_

_Into the branches and the grass below._

_Then it was over. The sky cleared._

_I was standing under a tree._

_The tree was a tree with happy leaves,_

_And I was myself,_

_And there were stars in the sky_

_That were also themselves at the moment_

_At which moment my right hand was holding my left hand_

_Which was holding the tree_

_Which was filled with stars and the soft rain –_

_Imagine! Imagine!_

_The long and wondrous journeys still to be ours."_

_-Mary Oliver-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:
> 
> Vocabulary:
> 
> Nchu: My friend (a man speaking of another man)
> 
> Well, things are moving along more smoothly now for our little family. Nathaniel is out of the woods, and everyone can breathe a sigh of relief. I am sad to say this story will not have too much further to go before it draws to a close, and I have a beautiful ending planned that I hope fits the way I want it to. I thought about not doing another detailed love scene in this chapter, but really there have only been two, and after all that has happened to Nathaniel and Cora in the last few chapters, I felt like they really needed a good solid reconnect and I wanted to give them that – much like in Chapter 1 when they've just been through all these horrible scary things and they just needed that loving physical contact as an affirmation of life and a reinforcement of what they feel for each other, which is a very powerful and touching thing. I also wanted to make the beforehand part Nathaniel's POV, since we saw a lot of Cora's in 10 and 11, and it felt important to show how he sees her after all that has happened. One of my favorite things that has ever been said about nurses was from an article written by Jeffrey McWilliams, MD, who said that "they are the foot-soldiers on the medical frontline, working hand in hand with patients and families, combating pain, disease, and fear while often neglecting themselves." Cora embodies this in her practice, and most especially when she must use all her effort to help Nathaniel. He sees that just as he has always seen all that she is that makes him love her in the beautiful way he does. I have always loved his tenderness with Cora, and I love developing that between them in this story. I think BlueSaffire hit the nail on the head when we discussed this and she said that "both Nathaniel and Uncas, despite being amazing fighters and tough as nails, can be the most gentle of men." This is so true, and they absolutely are. Chingachgook has the same qualities, and I have no doubt he instilled these in both of his spectacular sons; I think we can all agree that he gets the 18th Century Single Dad Award for raising boys who make us swoon. ;)
> 
> I didn't think that Cora should leave the village without being fully accepted, so I had the holy man name her. I was hesitant to do this at first, because I had to figure out the right way to say "Crow Woman" – and I think I did, but if I'm wrong I apologize. I have no doubt that some of my Lenape vocabulary usage isn't perfect or completely correct, but it's as good as I can get it short of having direct help from someone who actually speaks Lenape. I've really tried to represent the culture respectfully and knowledgeably and to write about only what I can find solid information on without making things up, and I hope that comes across well. I did not detail any ceremonies because those are private and sacred and frankly I do not know what they would entail in the Lenape culture beyond the very basics. They did celebrate things like successful hunts, the driving out of evil spirits, and the rising of the maple sap, which was a staple part of their diet especially in winter – they even cooked meat in it. The "granola bar" type thing I mentioned was real too, as was the snow taffy. That was fun because I enjoyed making the story about little Uncas and Nathaniel getting in trouble for trying to steal syrup (you know those two were a handful as kids). One of the things that happens after you reach a turning point in the grief process is starting to remember things that make you smile instead of things that just make you miss that person and feel sad. Part of the main theme of this story is taking this family through a natural grief process, which I think a lot of us can identify with. I've kept their little visitors around mostly in the form of ravens, and I liked the idea of them leaving little tokens for Cora. Ravens have been known to do this when they "like" someone, and it is in keeping with the uniform button she received from the one in Albany. I have a plan for that later.
> 
> Lastly, I kind of thought Chingachgook deserved a little female companionship. Kanshiopán is an awesome lady (when I imagine her I see the lovely Tantoo Cardinal). She is wise and kind and helped save his son, and they've known each other a long time, so it seems fitting that they might hook up. He's been alone for quite a while as far as we know, and why should Nathaniel and Cora be the only ones having any fun? ;)
> 
> Thank you for reading, thank you for all the wonderful feedback and PMs, and thank you my amazing, supportive husband for putting up with my LOTM obsession and even helping me come up with ideas and do research - and to MohawkWoman for always being my sounding board and my constant source of ridiculous LOTM-related amusement.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the family's winter stay with the Delaware approaches, and Cora has some worries about a personal concern.

**Chapter 13**

_"_ _I will draw thorns from your feet._

_We will walk the White Path of Life together._

_Like a brother of my own blood,_

_I will love you._

_I will wipe tears from your eyes._

_When you are sad,_

_I will put your aching heart to rest._

_-Cherokee Traveler's Greeting-_

_March 15, 1758_

"I must confess, I am going to miss regular steam baths very much when we leave here," Cora said as she and Nathaniel walked back to their wigwam after an afternoon sojourn to the sweat lodges. They would not remain here much longer, perhaps a few weeks more before the thaw would begin and they would head north up the Hudson back home. After further discussion over the last few months, the decision had been made to return to the Cameron farm and resettle the land, providing there was no news of immediate danger once they reached Albany. They would need to arrive in time to construct temporary dwelling space and get outfitted with necessary supplies and tools before it got warm enough to rebuild the cabin and get the land ready to plant crops; they would have a great deal of work ahead of them.

He smiled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "I don't know why we couldn't build a sweat house when we settle, once we have a cabin finished. I could do something more permanent eventually, frame and plank perhaps...even with an area to bathe. Would you like that?"

"I would love it!" She grinned with excitement at the thought.

"And we wouldn't have to use it separately either," he murmured in her ear. "That would be pleasant indeed..."

She giggled softly. "You are incorrigible, Nathaniel Poe."

"And you love it." He grinned and planted a firm kiss on her lips as they came to the wigwam doorway.

"Mmmm. I must admit I do," she replied against his mouth, kissing him again briefly. "Now behave. I need to dress and help cook, and if you keep that up, I'll be hopelessly detained." She swatted him on the rear playfully as he went through the door ahead of her.

" _I'm_ incorrigible?" he muttered with a chuckle.

They dressed and went to the village center. While Cora was helping the women cook, she saw that Máxkwikee had come with a few of the other men, and there was some sort of friendly conference going on with Nathaniel, Chingachgook, and Niankwe. Nathaniel was fully recovered now, and had gained back his strength and the weight he had lost in those weeks, though winter saw them all a little leaner in general than summer and fall. He had gone back to normal daily work with the men, checking trap lines, ice fishing, and hunting, with no further incident, much to Cora's relief. She observed as Máxkwikee scooped up Wëlàhëne's son Chëmamtët, who had come running up to them. In the course of developing a friendship with her, Cora had learned that Wëlàhëne's husband had died in battle the previous year, leaving her alone with their young son. She had noticed Máxkwikee visiting with the pretty young widow more and more often over the last few months, and Chëmamtët had taken quite a fancy to him. Cora thought that perhaps it would not be too long before Wëlàhëne had a new husband.

Her gaze shifted to Nathaniel, who was in animated conversation with Máxkwikee and laughing at the little boy's antics as his friend played with him. Despite the hardship they had endured, she was glad for their time here. It was good for Nathaniel to have the companionship of his childhood friend who was a link to Uncas, and for him and Chingachgook to be among their own people; and it was good for her as well to be here among them, to take her husband's people into her heart, for they were hers now, too. She was looking forward to going back to the frontier and settling, and to seeing their dear friends again, but she would miss this life as she missed the frontier, too. It would be a difficult farewell; this would be the last winter spent here now that they would be settling permanently. The band of Mohicans would be moving on to join the other groups who had left for territory outside of New York, and there was no telling how long it might be before the Lenape might all be driven away from their ancestral lands as well. As their departure grew closer, there was a heaviness about Chingachgook, who was unable to turn his mind from these things for all he had seen in his lifetime of his people slowly disappearing. Nathaniel understood it, and Cora now had her own understanding of it, too. She had found another family here, and it hurt to leave them and think that she might never see most of them again if they were forced away by encroaching settlers and war. She could not imagine how much worse it must be for her father-in-law, and it made her heart ache for him.

Nathaniel glanced her way, catching her watching him, and flashed her a radiant smile, diverting her somber thoughts. As long as she lived, she would never tire of the way he looked when he smiled like that. It never failed to make her pulse go awry, since the first time in the surgery, and every time afterward. Her life beyond that terrible day on the mountain could have been far different had she made different choices, but in that smile was every reason she had chosen as she had. She had no regret for it, for all that she had been allowed to become because of it. Any other life would have been hollow and meaningless without Nathaniel; to love him and be loved by him, to want him as she did, to have him with her every day that Providence saw fit to grant them. _You stand in my soul, and I stand in yours. Your people are my people._ Wherever they were, they were one, and would face the future together, come what may.

The following morning, they rose at dawn with the village. Nathaniel would be heading out with the men for the day to check traps, and Cora would be working with the women to collect buckets from the tapped maple trees and boil down the sap to make syrup and maple sugar. As they came toward the Mohican longhouse, Nathaniel stopped briefly, staring ahead, the corner of his mouth twitching. Cora followed his gaze to see Kanshiopán and Chingachgook exiting the dwelling together, both smiling.

"Does it bother you?" Cora asked him quietly. They had both known for some time that there was something going on between Nathaniel's father and the _nentpike_ , but other than a softly uttered 'I'll be damned' the first time they had seen them together, he had been surprisingly closed-mouthed about it. She had not prodded him, nor had she raised the subject with her friend, as it was none of her business.

"Not in a bad way…it's just taking some getting used to is all. My mother died a long time ago, and to my knowledge there's not been anyone else. Doesn't mean there never was, just this is the first time I've seen it. Or maybe just the first time it's carried on long enough for me to know. It isn't my affair I suppose."

Cora slipped her arms around his waist. "Nor is it mine. But they seem content with whatever arrangement they have, so that is something."

"Aye," he replied. "It makes sense I suppose. We've known her a long time - I like and respect her, she's a good woman, and she's been good for you, too. If she's good for my father I can't argue, and that's his decision to make. If he is happy, then so am I. What will come of it, time will tell." He kissed her hair and they continued along.

* * *

"I will miss your company when you have left us," Asuwakàn said to Cora as they carried buckets of maple sap back toward the village.

"I will surely miss you as well," she replied. "All of you."

"Will you go when the thaw comes?" asked Wëlàhëne.

"As soon as we can travel north on the _Muhheahkantuck_ , yes. I regret that I will not be here when your babe arrives," she said to Asuwakàn, who was now nearly three months along with her and Niankwe's first child, them having been married in late November. Cora had attended a few births with Kanshiopán since she had been in the village as well as a fair number in the past with Mr. Phelps in the camps, and she was sorry that she would miss that of her friend. She would not, however, have to miss seeing Wëlàhëne wed to Máxkwikee – she had informed Cora earlier that they had come to an agreement between their families, and would be married in the next week. "No doubt I will be sadly absent when your next babe comes as well," she said to her. "But you will both be in the best hands with Kanshiopán and the other women. I have enough experience with birthing, but I have no experience with bearing a child just yet."

"Perhaps you will, soon enough," Asuwakàn said. Cora nodded but did not answer. This had been a topic of some personal stress for her. She and Nathaniel had been married almost six months, and she had thought she would have been with child by now, even though they had missed a month of effort while he had been ill. She had never particularly wanted children before, but that had been when she had no prospect of having what she had now. With Nathaniel, it was all different. She loved him so that she thought sometimes she could burn up for wanting him, and she wanted everything that came with their life together. She wanted a baby with him, wanted to know what it felt like to have a life made of them both growing inside her. She wanted to know what their children would look like – if they would have dark hair like their parents, if they would have his eyes or hers, if they would smile the way he did. She hoped that they would be able to find out one day, and that there was not some issue that would prevent that joy for them. She decided she would talk to Kanshiopán about it later. She always seemed to be able to put Cora's mind at ease. For the moment, she pushed it away as their group came back to the village, ready to begin cooking down the maple sap.

That afternoon, she sought out Kanshiopán, and found her at her longhouse grinding dried herbs. The older woman smiled and gestured for Cora to sit beside her.

"I am glad to see you, Ahasxkwe," she said. "How is it with you? How is Hawkeye?"

"He is very well, thank you," Cora replied, sitting down with her. "He is out checking trap lines today with the men, I expect him back by dusk."

"And you? Your eyes tell me something is troubling you. Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm…I'm fine, I just have something I need to ask you about. You see, Hawkeye and I…we have been married almost half a year, and…well, I thought that by now I would be with child. I am worried that something is wrong."

Kanshiopán set down her grinding stone. "Well. It is still quite early to know that for certain. What happens to one woman may not happen to another; it seems to me that the workings of a woman's body can be as unique as each woman herself."

"I have dealt with birth on numerous occasions, but my knowledge of the fine details and mysteries of conception is somewhat lacking I'm afraid, since much of my medical training came from an Army physician. I never gave much thought to how long it would take…it seems to happen quickly for so many, I suppose I was naïve and took for granted that it would for me as well."

"There are many things that can influence the timing. Sometimes there is no helping it, and either the woman or the man is simply incapable of producing a child, but many times it is simply something that must happen in its own time, and you must be patient. I see you, and I see that you and Hawkeye love each other powerfully, and you are eager to have a family. But I am thinking about how things have been for you since you and he came together as husband and wife, and before."

"How things have been? What do you mean?"

"You have endured many trials. When you came to this land, your life had been very different until then, and you were used to that life. In a short time, all things changed for you. You experienced much shock, fear, loss, and great grief. Your way of life became different, your dwelling place, the food you ate, the work you did. Then you came here to the _Lenapehoking_ , and things were different for you yet again. You have never lived through a winter the way we do here, nor have you lived among a people such as the Lenni-Lenape. Your husband became ill, and once again you experienced a time of great fear when you thought he might be taken. All these things together have greatly taxed your body, mind, and spirit, and you must consider this in your worries about children."

"I see," Cora said softly. "When you put it in such a way, I know that you are right. I have seen and done many trying things before when accompanying my father in times of war, but this past year has been unlike any other, and I have truly never known such hardship…or such joy entwined with it. It has been a time of great adversity, but also a time of growth and learning and change. I can imagine that such stress could make it difficult to bear children."

"Without a doubt. It can cause the loss of one already created, and it can prevent the creation of one at all. Your body needs time to adjust and heal, and it will take what time it needs before a child can grow properly there. There may be a genuine problem yet, but in my heart I do not feel it is so."

Cora let out a sigh. "I do hope you are right. Is there any way to help it?"

"Aside from being as gentle to yourself as you are able, there are plants that can help nourish your body. Come, I will show you." Kanshiopán said, getting up to go to where she kept her vast supply of herbs. She gathered a few different ones together, putting them into cloth pouches while Cora looked on. "Red raspberry leaf. Red clover. Nettle. Motherwort. These can help you. Remember them." She placed them in Cora's hands.

"Thank you. I have learned so much from you already, but there is so much more to learn. I will be so sad to leave you when it is time."

Kanshiopán smiled. "I will be sad to see you leave us as well, but you will be happy to settle with your husband and make your life, and perhaps one day I will see you again. Do not worry about children, _nichan_. They will come in their time, when your body is ready to sustain them."

Cora embraced her. "Thank you, _ànati_. I am so blessed by your friendship."

"And I am blessed with yours."

* * *

Nathaniel came into the wigwam after washing away the day's work of dealing with the takings of the traps. It was dark, and it had been a longer day than expected. He found Cora there already, waiting for him as she sat by the fire holding a cup of something hot that she was drinking. She set it down and rose to come to him with a welcoming smile.

"You're back," she said as he set Killdeer aside and reached for her.

"Yes, and I missed you." He drew her into his arms with a sigh. It felt good to hold her after a long and tiring day away, to feel her warmth and softness against him. He pulled her closer to him and kissed her. She tasted of something earthy and herbal, and the familiar scent of her enveloped him as he marveled at how he could so easily lose himself in loving her, in the sweetness of coming back to her when they had been apart.

"It has been a long day for us both, and you must be tired. Have you eaten?" she asked, nuzzling beneath his jaw, her arms wrapped around his waist.

"I have, when we got back. Now I'd just like to lie down with you."

"I believe I can oblige you on that shortly," she said, letting go of him so he could settle in. She picked up the cup she had been holding to finish the contents.

"What is that? It doesn't smell familiar." He sat down on the sleeping platform and began to undress.

"Kanshiopán gave me some herbs today when I went to see her."

Nathaniel frowned, concerned. "For what? Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine, don't worry." She set the empty cup down, pulling off her shift and getting into bed to lie beside him. "I went to see her because I was…well, I was worried about…not being with child yet."

Nathaniel rose onto his elbow and looked down at her. Her eyes had a look of unsettled apology, and he wondered why she had never said anything to him about this worry. True, it seemed like something that might have happened by now, but there had been so many other things going on that they hadn't talked about it for a while, and she had never hinted that it was distressing her.

"Why didn't you tell me you were bothered about this?" he asked, grazing his fingertips along her hairline.

"I don't know…I suppose it really didn't start to worry me until after you recovered and I had the luxury of thinking about such things, and it has been on my mind more lately because Asuwakàn is with child. I thought maybe…something might be wrong with me." Her eyes shifted away. "I was afraid of disappointing you if for some reason we can't have children."

Nathaniel cupped her cheek, bringing her gaze back to his. "Cora. Listen to me. You could never be a disappointment to me. No matter what."

"Even if I can't give you children?" Her eyes filled with tears, and his heart constricted at the sight. He hated that she had worried about this alone, that she felt like it was some shortcoming of hers.

"Even then, but if there is a problem, it could just as easily be with me, did you consider that?" He shook his head, stroking her face gently. "Do you not know yet how much I love you? I want you with me, children or not. Always. We did not take our vows as husband and wife with conditions, _ndah_." He kissed her forehead. "Will you tell me what Kanshiopán had to say about it?" He listened as she repeated what the _nentpike_ had told her about the stress on her body, and about the herbs she had given her. "That makes perfect sense to me," he said, his fingers making slow circles against her scalp. "I'm glad you spoke to her."

"It does to me as well. I hadn't thought about it that way, but I can't deny that all that has happened has been taxing to me."

"I want children with you. I want everything I can possibly have with you. It's easy to want things to happen faster when life's been like it has, when we've lost as we have. But I won't be wholly sorry if we get a little more time for just us, either. I think she is right in that it may take some more time, but right now it has only been five months, and I don't think there is anything more to worry yourself about. I am certain of it."

"How can you know that?"

"When I…when I saw Uncas, when I was ill, he said something to me. He said _'Your wife needs you. Someday your children will need you.'_ So, I believe him." Cora's eyes grew tender with emotion at this, and he closed his eyes as she laid her hand on his cheek. "It took a long time for my mother, you know. She and my father adopted me at a time when they had given up on conceiving children. It wasn't but maybe a year and some after they took me in that she fell pregnant, and I was close to four when Uncas was born. There were never any more, but she always said the two of us were all she needed to turn her old." He laughed, still able to hear the melodic sound of Wah-ta-Wah's voice in his mind.

"I think she was likely right about that," Cora replied with amusement, snuggling closer to him, the feel of her body arousing his senses. "I suppose part of it is impatience, but also that I just never really knew what to expect. I wasn't exactly surrounded by women who spoke to me of these things freely before, and though I have attended births, this aspect of it is something new to me."

"Not every part of it, I hope, or I am failing in my duty as your husband." He grinned, his hand caressing a lazy path down her spine, over her hip, down her thigh, and back again. He could feel her skin growing warmer at his touch, and the quickening thrill of her heartbeat against his chest.

"Oh, no, I think not," she murmured, her gaze growing heated. "I feel quite well educated in _that_ regard. It certainly cannot be said that there is a lack of effort between us." Her lips curved in a seductive smile, her fingers trailing over his bare shoulder. He gave in to the temptation to kiss her then, tracing her top lip with the tip of his tongue, savoring her soft sigh and the way her mouth immediately sought his in return, her arms winding around his neck. The thick waves of her hair spread wildly around her face as he rolled her beneath him, their mutual desire evident when he came to rest against the cradle of her hips.

"I believe there is always more room to learn," he whispered, "and plenty more effort to be made."

 _"_ _I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,_

_I love you directly without problems or pride;_

_I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving but this,_

_in which there is no I or you,_

_so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,_

_so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close."_

_-Pablo Neruda-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:
> 
> Vocabulary:
> 
> Chëmamtët – Little Rabbit
> 
> Muhheahkantuck – River that Flows Two Ways (the Hudson River)
> 
> Lenapehoking – the ancestral lands of the Lenni-Lenape people
> 
> Nichan – my child (my daughter, my niece, etc.)
> 
> Ànati – dear mother
> 
> I feel like this chapter took ages to write compared to the last four. It took me almost a week after finishing 12 to even start it because I couldn't seem to format it in my head in a way that satisfied me, but now I'm happy. I had intended originally to wrap up their time with the Lenape in chapter 12, but there was way too much that didn't fit into chapter 12, and it would have been too abrupt to cut the story off where 12 ended, so it needed to carry over into its own chapter. It isn't as dramatic/exciting as the last several have been, and there is content that took some consideration, but I feel like there are important things in it. I wanted to show at least some reaction from Nathaniel about Chingachgook keeping company with Kanshiopán (obviously he's a levelheaded grown-ass man so he isn't going to freak out, but he's got an opinion at least). I also wanted to show a little more detail about some of the central characters in their circle of Lenape/Mohican friends, too, and how important they have all been to Cora, Nathaniel, and Chingachgook, and what it means to them to be leaving these friends soon.
> 
> I had always planned for Cora to have a good woman-to-woman talk with Kanshiopán about the business of babies, and that fit into this chapter where it didn't in any other. I had to think about this, because Cora is pretty intelligent, and I wondered if she really would be that concerned about how long it's taking her to get pregnant. But I also can't imagine she had a lot of opportunity to talk with anyone about the nitty-gritty details of conception when, as she says, all her medical training was with an Army surgeon who is a man, and she was intent on being a happy spinster, so why would she have cared until she met Nathaniel? It also stands to reason that she might be feeling a little impatient about it (in the grand scheme of things five or six months is not that long, but I would imagine many women found themselves in the family way pretty soon after marriage, so she might expect that). Cora and Nathaniel have intimate, painful knowledge of how short life can be. She lost her entire family, he lost his brother, then Nathaniel got sick and almost died, and they are completely gone for each other, so it makes sense that they want to have a family sooner rather than later. Carpe diem, right? Plus all that pressure from Chingachgook about grandchildren. Uncas is off in the afterlife saying "Pressure's off me now! Good luck, Nathaniel!" Ha!
> 
> That's about all I have to say for this chapter. Thank you for reading, thank you for the reviews and PMs, and stay tuned for the next adventure as our trio heads back to the frontier!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathaniel, Cora, and Chingachgook make their start at the Cameron (now Poe) homestead, and reconnect with friends for some news that is both concerning and surprising.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End notes are in the chapter text due to length.

**Chapter 14**

_"_ _My soul falls silent, my lips are sealed_

_As my heart sings over a twilight field,_

_The field is covered with dancing dreams_

_As the earth is embraced by blissful beams._

_I stood still, as did the hands of time,_

_To watch all that is graceful…_

_All that is mine."_

_-Anna Andrews-_

_May 10, 1758_

Cora stood up straight in the freshly ploughed and cultivated earth and stretched her back, pulling a corner of her cotton fichu from her bodice to wipe the sweat from her forehead beneath the wide brim of her straw hat. It was getting hotter, and the air was humid, making her skin damp and uncomfortably sticky as she worked in the afternoon sun. Nathaniel and Chingachgook had toiled from sunup to sundown the entire previous week with ox and plough to ready the fields for crops. Planting was now in full swing, and she was currently sowing a variety of squashes. Corn and beans had been done already, and after squash was done she would be able to get to the smaller vegetable plot and her herb garden. They had arrived several weeks ago, coming up the Hudson by canoe to Albany, and then overland to the MacKays', where they had been joyously received. Cora had stayed with Sarah and the children while Ian had taken a four-day trip back to Albany with Nathaniel and Chingachgook. Nathaniel had gone to the county clerk's office to see to the necessary arrangements to purchase and transfer the Camerons' land claim into their possession. From there the men had seen to the trading for or direct purchase of necessary equipment and livestock to make their start at the farm. Nathaniel had taken with him a letter from Cora to Eugenie to post to Boston, informing her of their whereabouts and well-being after the winter away, and to post replies to Mr. Phelps's address; he had also paid Mr. Phelps a short visit to assure him that Cora was well and that hopefully they could visit soon. On their return, the men had started felling trees to clear more land for future use, and to let the fresh timber season for later construction. John Cameron had cleared another quarter acre the previous year, and the seasoned timber from that would be used to make repairs to the existing cabin, and to add at least one more room onto it. For the time being, they had put up two wigwams by the west fence close to the edge of the forest, and were living in them until the cabin was ready.

Looking around her, Cora took in the details of the place that would be their home now. The original cabin still stood more than half intact; the fire the Ottawa war party had set had taken a portion of the roof and a large section of the north wall where the front door had been. Inside there was fire damage to repair in places, mostly the kitchen area, but it was not completely devastated. The small livestock shelter on the southeast corner was still present and now housed a milk cow, a sturdy pair of mules, and an ox. More would come later, once a proper barn and coop could be built. Chickens for eggs, perhaps even a horse or two if they could manage it, and Cora thought she would like to have a few goats for milk and cheese. To the west and south was the edge of the forest, with a view of the low, rolling mountains beyond. A wide stream ran out of the woods and across the edge of the farm behind the cabin, the same that supplied water to the MacKays' land a short distance away to the southeast of them.

Her eyes came to rest on the big, gnarled hawthorn tree that stood at the far northwest corner of the land just beyond the wooden fence, and the four wooden markers that showed where the Camerons had been laid to rest close by it. After they had left Fort William Henry during the siege, Ian and Jack had come to see to them. Neither had discussed it beyond telling Nathaniel it had been done when they had come to Ian's several days later. Even after nine months she could not forget the first time she had been here, the dying fire still smoking, and the Camerons lying where they had fallen, devoid of life and spirit. That night, sleeping in the glade at the burial ground, she had dreamt fitfully of them, and of Nathaniel, his eyes full of tears when he had turned on her in anger at her thoughtless accusation of indifference, and said they were not strangers. She felt now that they were no longer strangers to her either, though she had never met them in life. Sarah had told her a great deal about them, and since they had come here, Nathaniel would sometimes tell her things too, fleeting memories of them that came when something would remind him. He did not speak of the children often, though, and when he did, she felt a pain in her heart that mirrored what she saw in his eyes. She still worried sometimes that settling here was too strange for him, but he had told her when they had made the final decision that he wanted to honor his friends' legacy and continue making something of this place; he felt that to leave it to waste would be a sin against everything John and Alexandria had worked so hard for.

At times when she had a few moments to rest Cora liked to sit beneath the hawthorn tree, leaning against the trunk that curved like the spine of an ancient person, its twisting branches reaching over the curve like arms outstretched in prayer, as if it had spent its existence learning to bend with the wind to survive. This time of year, it was covered in delicate white blossoms that contrasted starkly with the rich deep brown of the bark. Soon the blossoms would give way to the red berries known for their properties to aid fertility. The tree reminded her of Auchinbowie, and the hawthorn there that her mother had loved, and which Cora had climbed often as a child. There was a quiet comfort in sitting on the earth at its roots, thinking of her mother and father and Alice and sometimes of Duncan, and holding a silent reverence for the family at rest nearby, wondering if Alexandria had loved this tree too. Occasionally ravens and crows would sit among the branches and call out, a reminder to her of what Alice had said to Nathaniel: _"I will always be with her in some way, she has only to look and listen."_ She thought that this must be true of them all – they were all here in some way.

Her gaze moved on and found Nathaniel by the makeshift barn, stripped to the waist and working at notching debarked logs. His hair was pulled away from his face and neck in the humid heat, the length of it hanging in a thick hank between his shoulder blades. Sweat glistened on his sun-bronzed skin, and she watched the muscles of his torso and arms work beneath it, rippling with each rhythmic swing of the axe. An appreciative warmth suffused her at the raw beauty of this sight, and she smiled softly to herself with the perpetual thrill of knowing that he was hers. He stood up straight and leaned on the axe, dragging the back of a hand across his forehead as he called out to Chingachgook, who was pushing a wheelbarrow full of stones to the pile they were collecting to reconstruct the hearth. Once he had unloaded, he left to gather more. Cora set aside her reverie to finish planting the last two rows of squash, and when she had finished, took a bucket down to the stream. Kneeling on the bank, she scooped up the cold, clear water and drank, rivulets running down her neck to dampen her fichu and the edge of her cotton bodice. She filled the bucket with fresh water and carried it back up to the cabin for the men. When Nathaniel saw her coming, he smiled broadly and met her to take the bucket, ducking his head under the brim of her hat for a kiss. He smelled like pine wood and sweat, and tasted salty against her lips.

"Thank you," he said after dipping a cup into the bucket and drinking deeply. "All done with the squash?"

"Yes. Now I can start on the other vegetables and the herb garden." She smiled back at him and her eyes went to the area of which she spoke, where he had carefully prepared the plot of earth for her to plant her herbs for cooking and medicine. She had declared it perfect, and he took great satisfaction in her happiness. He watched her now, almost hearing the wheels of her mind turning as she thought about what she would plant there. Damp tendrils of her hair escaped her long braid and clung to her neck and face. Her skin was flushed and dewy with perspiration from working in the heat of the day, and she looked tired but content. He hoped this would be a better year for them and that he could give her a good home here. She had adjusted to every change that life with him had brought upon her with no complaint, no matter how hard it had been, and he was so very proud of her. Chingachgook had said early on that she knew how to bend with the wind, and he had been right. She turned her gaze back to him, and he saw that she had a smear of soil across one cheekbone. His lips quirked in adoration, and he reached out to wipe it away with his thumb.

"Just a bit of dirt," he said at her questioning look.

"I'm sure there's more than that elsewhere," she laughed, "and I feel quite sticky in this humidity." She tugged the fabric of her dress away from her sweaty skin.

"I'm not faring much better myself," Nathaniel agreed. "We're due at the MacKays' for supper in a while, maybe we ought to take a dip in the stream before we go?"

"Oh yes, please. That sounds heavenly."

When they had both reached a stopping point in their work and put away tools for the day, Cora fetched soap, toweling, a wooden comb, and a clean shift from their wigwam. Nathaniel let Chingachgook know where they were going, and they went down to the stream to bathe, following it into the forest for a short distance to the place that was a true treasure of the location of their new home. Here the stream came down a slope and flowed over a jutting outcrop of rock that formed a short waterfall with a shallow little cave behind it. At the bottom, the water pooled around the base in a deeper section before flowing on out toward the farm. Above the outcrop along the embankment, wild blackberries grew in a tangle of thorny shrubs, their long canes reaching out from the thicket, tipped in white flowers that would soon begin to fruit. A little deeper into the forest, wood strawberries and raspberries could also be found; Nathaniel had shown her where, and she eagerly awaited the time when they would ripen and she could take Maggie and Sarah with her to gather them to eat fresh and make preserves and pies.

Cora toed off her moccasins and stripped off her dress and shift while Nathaniel untied his hair and removed his leggings and breechclout, and they waded into the blissfully cold pool by the waterfall. Nathaniel ducked down and leaned backward, letting the water wet his hair, and Cora followed suit.

"Oh, this cool water is wonderful," she breathed, reaching to get her lavender soap off the rock where they had set their things.

"Nothing better on a hot day," Nathaniel agreed, picking up his own bar of plain soap. After they had washed and rinsed, he took Cora's soap from her and moved behind her, undoing her braid and lathering her hair. His fingers went to work washing the wet mass of dark waves, and she leaned her head back with a relaxed sigh as he massaged her scalp.

"That feels divine. I could certainly become accustomed to this," she said with a pleased smile. "Be careful – I may come to expect it of you."

Nathaniel chuckled softly, his bare chest pressing against her back. "I wouldn't mind if you did. Besides, I love the smell of your soap." He leaned close to her to breathe in the earthy scent of the lavender. "More accurately, I love the way it makes _you_ smell. And I surely would not mind if you might wish to return the favor…?"

She laughed aloud. "Are you confessing an ulterior motive? No matter. I was inclined to offer in the first place." She enjoyed his attentions a little longer, then turned to him to reciprocate, her hands working over his neck and shoulders after she washed his hair, gently kneading the muscles where she knew he was tired and sore.

"This could undoubtedly become a habit," he sighed as she finished and they moved to the waterfall to rinse the soap from their hair. He watched her lean backward under the flow, her fair skin glowing in the shadow of the outcrop, the graceful line of her throat exposed with her head thrown back. Her breasts rose above of the surface of the pool, the deep pink nipples pebbled from the cool water running over her. He couldn't look at her in any setting and not want her, but like this she was free of all convention, perfect and wild and glorious, and it was utterly impossible to dismiss the primitive stir of his near constant desire for her. It seemed beyond reason sometimes, the way he needed her, the way they needed each other, but he supposed this was how it should be between a husband and wife, and he'd be damned if he wanted it any other way. He inhaled a breath and ducked under the fall to rinse.

Cora righted herself and pushed backward into the rocky grotto behind the curtain of the waterfall, staring with a captivated half-smile at Nathaniel as he stood beneath the deluge, his long, lean body starkly outlined by the light on the other side. He came into the dim grotto with her, his wet hair streaming down his back as he pushed it back and wiped his face, his lashes spiky with moisture. Rivulets of water ran over his shoulders and down his chest, and she followed them until they disappeared back into the pool's surface. Her gaze traveled slowly back up to his, roaming over the expanse of bare skin visible above the waterline, and she felt the familiar heavy ache begin to spread low in her belly, despite the cold water and the goosebumps rising on her flesh. She could see it in him too; could feel it radiating from him, and she wanted it, wanted all of him here, in the half-lit beauty of this hidden, primeval place that was theirs for this moment. She came forward to him, felt him tremble when she pressed her body to his warmth, heard him inhale sharply as her nipples brushed against his chest, the contact sending a pulse of arousal through her. Looping her arms around his neck, she tilted her face up to his and kissed him slowly, her tongue taking the lingering beads of water from his lips as they parted and responded with fiery hunger.

His arms came around her and she lifted her feet from the bottom of the pool, letting her body float upward into his embrace as she wrapped her legs around his hips and pressed herself against the hard length of him with a soft whimper. His mouth trailed over her wet skin, her gasps of pleasure echoing against the rock surrounding them, barely audible over the rush of the waterfall. He licked a droplet of water from the tip of her nipple before drawing it into his mouth, and she moaned quietly, her hands in his hair. Lifting his head and holding her close, he took her then, hard and fast, his eyes fixed on hers. She cried out and thrust against him, her legs holding him tight, her arms clinging and her body demanding, and they lost themselves to the frenzy of motion and the thrill of sensation, the water lapping in waves around them. He claimed her mouth with a low groan as he reached his release, and she followed him on a shuddering wave that left her weak and quaking in his arms. He held her against the heat of his body until she found her bearing and stood, her arms still wrapped around him.

"We had better get out of this water," he whispered, kissing her softly and stroking the gooseflesh on her shoulders. "You're getting cold now, and we're well on our way to being late for supper."

"It will be worth Sarah's teasing if we are, but you are right, I am chilly, and I don't want your father to worry."

They ducked back under the waterfall and climbed out of the stream to dry off and dress. Cora sat on the bank in her shift and wrung excess water from her hair, and Nathaniel sat down behind her and began to work the wooden comb through her damp waves. She gave a hum of contentment and tilted her head back with a smile, listening to the rush of the stream and the sounds of the forest around them.

"I love this place," she murmured, leaning back against Nathaniel. His arms wrapped around her shoulders and he rested his chin on top of her head with a sigh.

"I'm glad, _ndah_. I do, too, and it's infinitely better to share it with you."

* * *

When Nathaniel, Cora, and Chingachgook arrived at the MacKays' house, Ian stepped out onto the porch and called out a welcome.

"How is it with you, Ian?" Chingachgook asked, clasping their friend's hand.

"Very well, thank you. We'll be done with planting tomorrow. How are things at your place?"

"Moving along well. The days are getting warm, and we're working hard. Planting is nearly done, and the cabin is coming along."

"Maybe a little slower than I'd like, but it is," Nathaniel said.

"Once we're done with planting here, Alasdair and I'll be spared to come and help this week, and perhaps I can muster O'Donnell and his boys as well. Come in, Sarah's anxious to see you, Cora, and we've an extra guest or two as well."

As they came into the common room and kitchen, Sarah came to hug them while Aidan and Maggie made a beeline for them with loud squeals, a now mobile Aileen toddling behind them. Alasdair, Jack Winthrop and Mr. Phelps stood from the table to say hello. Greetings passed all around, and Cora hugged Mr. Phelps happily.

"I'm so glad to see you again!" she exclaimed. "Nathaniel said he visited you last month when he was in Albany. What brings you here to us?"

"Well, I've got a letter for you from your cousin in Boston, so I thought it would be a good reason to come out for a visit, since I've been meaning to. I came here for direction to your place, but Mrs. MacKay said you'd be along for supper and I should stay, so here I be."

"Good to see you again, Owen," Nathaniel said, shaking his hand. "How's that leg?"

"Well, as good as it can be. It's glad for the warmth of spring, for certain."

Cora helped Sarah set out the food, and they all sat down at the long table to eat.

"Jack, how are Abigail and the children?" Cora asked.

"They're well, and send their greetings. Ruth and Jeremiah are happy to have a break from their schooling for planting time, but Rebekah reminds them daily that they'll be back to it soon!" Jack's oldest daughter, who was nearly sixteen, had taken charge of schooling her younger siblings and aspired to have her own school one day. Cora noticed Alasdair perk up at the mention of her and smiled to herself. "I'm afraid my visit isn't entirely social, though. I have news of the war."

The room grew quiet.

"What is it, Jack?" Nathaniel asked.

"General Abercrombie is amassing troops at the southern end of the Horican, site of Fort William Henry. Six thousand regulars will be heading up there out of Albany. Militia, rangers, and Indians will go, too. He's planning to take the army up the lake and attack Montcalm's forces at Fort Carillon in the summer. Rumor has it they'll outnumber the French by more than thrice, and the odds of British victory are quite favorable in that."

Nathaniel and Chingachgook exchanged a weighty look, and Cora's heart sank with dread.

"What's that mean for you and the other boys, Jack, Ian? Are you going?"

"Not this time," Ian said firmly. "I'll not be leaving my family again for this. The Crown took enough from my wife at Culloden. Abercrombie's got his men, and more than plenty, he doesn't need the likes of me. I was injured enough at William Henry, I won't risk being killed this time around." Ian had received a nasty shrapnel wound to his left leg the day before Nathaniel's family had brought Cora, Alice and Duncan to the fort. Cora had helped him care for it when they had come here to stay, and though it had healed well, it had scarred deep into the muscle and still bothered him occasionally.

"You know where I stand, Nathaniel," Jack said. I'm staying here this time as well. Those who were at William Henry are under obligation to stay out of this fight for eighteen months according to Munro's terms with Montcalm, and I'll take that as reason enough to excuse myself from having any part in this."

"Well, that's good to hear at least," Nathaniel said. "I can only hope there won't be any trouble down around these parts while Abercrombie is preparing."

"God willing," Sarah said quietly. "At least I won't be here worrying about being widowed, or…worse. It'll be a comfort to have you and Chingachgook close by, Nathaniel."

Nathaniel met Cora's gaze, her eyes wide and worried. He could feel the anxiety rolling off her, and he wished he could tell her she had nothing to fear, but he knew as well as she did, maybe better, that there was no telling until the British forces moved north and were well away from here. This was what he had been afraid of in coming back here, but at least the fight was going far north once the army left Albany. In the meantime, they could hope that trouble wouldn't find them out here. He knew Cora had already had a solid education with firearms from her father and any number of soldiers willing to teach her and Alice when they were girls, and he'd reinforced her education and marksmanship himself. At Chingachgook's approval, he'd given her Uncas's Brown Bess musket, and she still had the flintlock pistol she'd picked up on the George Road the day they had met, as well as the hunter knife he'd given her last fall. She was well outfitted at least, and he'd make damn sure he kept her as safe as was in his power.

"The letter!" Cora exclaimed suddenly during a lull in conversation. "Mr. Phelps, I forgot all about the letter from Eugenie!"

"Ah yes! Here it is," he said, taking it from his waistcoat pocket and handing it across the table to her. "And really, lass, I think it's high time and appropriate for you to call me Owen," he chuckled. "The days of strict formality are done with, and I've known you since you were a wee thing."

"All right then. Thank you, Owen." She smiled briefly as she opened the letter and began to read it. When she finished, she calmly folded the parchment and stood. She looked at Nathaniel, and for once it was impossible for him to read her expression, which concerned him much more than when he could. "If you'll all excuse me for a moment, I'd like to have a word with my husband."

Nathaniel got up and followed her outside. "Well? What did she say?" he asked.

"A few things. They are both well, of course, and happy to hear that we are home safely, and that you recovered from your illness."

"And?" He knew that couldn't be all, or she would not look so…odd.

"And the house in Portman Square was sold in November, which was handled by my cousin Philip, Giles and Eugenie's son. He is a solicitor in London, like Giles. The buyer is the second son of a wealthy earl, and he apparently made the purchase entirely in cash coin, which Philip had sent to Giles with an agent who traveled from England to Boston in March."

"That's excellent news. Isn't it?"

"Oh, yes. Without a doubt. We should be quite set now, and we'll be able to pay the remaining debt on the farm outright. Perhaps we can order glass windows for the cabin, and buy a horse. It would appear that you did well to marry me." She let out a strangled laugh.

"As if that ever mattered. I love _you_ , not your inheritance, and you know it. Now, what else are you not telling me about this letter?" Nathaniel asked, worried.

Cora sighed. "They are moving to Albany at the end of this month."

"Giles and Eugenie?"

"Yes. They have no family in Boston, and Giles is ready to slow down his business a bit. Eugenie is…she's rather attached to the idea of being closer to me with my father and Alice gone, and she's wanting what she calls a 'change of scenery'. So, they are having a house built in Albany, and I regret to inform you that we may have to endure Giles's charming company far more often than we ever thought." She glanced at him ruefully.

He burst out laughing. "Is that all? Nothing terrible has happened?"

"Nathaniel, it is not funny! My cousin and her detestable, cold-blooded, foul-tempered husband are moving mere hours away from us. So they can _visit us_. That _is_ terrible! He's horrid to you!"

"Don't worry about me, I can handle him, and you know I care nothing for what he thinks of me. There are far worse things, and besides, now that Giles will be a regular fixture, my father will have something to do to amuse himself."

Cora gave a graceless snort, remembering how Chingachgook and Ongewasgone had gleefully intimidated Giles at their wedding. "I suppose that is at least something to look forward to."

"Maybe it'll be good for them. It might be for you, too. You can't ignore or erase your life before, and Eugenie may not understand you, but at least she doesn't disparage you for your choices anymore. She's the only decent family you've got."

Cora came forward and leaned against him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Now that is where you are wrong," she said softly. "All my best family is right here, in my arms, in this house, and in a longhouse village fifty miles south of here."

Nathaniel enveloped her in his embrace, her head tucked beneath his chin. He thought his heart could burst from the fullness of her declaration.

"That will hold true no matter what happens, Cora. We're in this together, all of us."

"Thank you, Nathaniel," she whispered.

"For what?"

"For giving me a family. For bringing me home."

_"_ _Take someone who doesn't keep score,_

_who's not looking to be richer,_

_or afraid of losing,_

_who has not the slightest interest_

_even in his own personality:_

_he's free."_

_-Rumi-_

* * *

**Author's Note:**

I had a pleasant time writing this chapter. Describing the setting of the Cameron farm and the surrounding forest made me a little jealous; I'd love to go visit a place like that! I sat in front of my TV for at least an hour before I wrote it, hitting pause and taking screenshots so I could accurately describe the setting and what remains of the cabin. The stream I of course made up, but it sounds lovely to me, and I think Nathaniel and Cora agree..ahem...I love the end of that scene because it's really sweet, but it also brought to mind a lot of jokes about sleepovers and braiding each others' hair. XD I based my description of their stream on a place I went with my husband near LaCenter, Washington, when we visited his best friend there a few years ago. He took us out to the area where he goes elk hunting every year and showed us a very similar stream and little waterfall, and it was absolutely heavenly there. I have some beautiful photos to help me remember it.

One big bonus thing that happened while I was writing this chapter was getting to see Last of the Mohicans on the big screen again for the first time since its release in 1992! Every year the Albuquerque Film & Music Experience puts on a week-long deal with music, film screenings, and discussion panels with actors, directors, and producers, and focuses on Native Americans in the film and music industry. This year one of the showings at our beautiful historic theater downtown was a 25th anniversary screening of LOTM, and because Wes Studi (Magua) lives just up the highway in Santa Fe, he took part and received this year's Impact Award, and he sat in the theater with all of us to watch the movie. The whole thing was ridiculously exciting, and since MohawkWoman is also a local, we were able to go to this together and had a fantastic time. There are so many little details you can see better on the big screen, and it was AWESOME. Not to mention getting to see Wes Studi and have him come up to do a Q&A afterward. Unfortunately there was not an opportunity to get to meet him in person afterward, but he was very personable and quite funny onstage.

So, Jack and Mr. Phelps have both come bearing some interesting news in this chapter. We'll be seeing some more of the well-meaning Eugenie, who I suspect has a little bit more of an adventurous spirit (like Cora), than anyone ever knew, and of course we can't have any fun without the despicable Giles. Chingachgook is hanging out in a corner of my brain with a sly smile, thinking "It's gonna be really fun to mess with this guy some more." The subject of Cora's inheritance hasn't been broached in great detail, but it exists, obviously. This period was a weird time for physical currency, both in England and especially in the colonies – there was no colonial banking system on this side of the Atlantic yet, and minted cash was not common, though it was more so in England than in the colonies. Cora's father was a career Army officer, and that alone wouldn't have made him a particularly wealthy man, but he did come from a landed and titled family, and even as a second son his assets left Cora in good standing. Nathaniel loves her no matter what so he doesn't particularly care about that, but it does make things nice for starting their life. It doesn't really change much for them, since they're content with the simplicity of life as it is, and to be where they are happiest with Chingachgook and their chosen family.

And then there is Jack's news. After General Daniel Webb was recalled from his colonial post over the loss of Fort William Henry, General James Abercrombie took up his post out of Albany and started rousing the army in the spring of 1758 to attack Fort Carillon (aka Fort Ticonderoga) on the northern end of Lake George (The Horican to our folks) near Lake Champlain and the border of New York and New France. He had a force more than 16,000 strong to Montcalm's maybe 6,000 at best, which gave the British CRAZY favorable odds. The Battle of Carillon subsequently took place in July of 1758, and I'll talk about that more in a future chapter when we will find out what all this means for our heroes – obviously they'll be prepared for some shit to go down, because Nathaniel and Chingachgook are like boy scouts on steroids and they're always prepared, and they've made sure Cora's got the goods to hold her own too.

Uncas: "Dude. You gave my musket to a girl?"

Nathaniel: "Well, what did you want me to do, let it rust? You're not using it!"

Alice: "He's got a point, sweetie. And Cora's a dab hand with a gun, she capped that one guy during the massacre no problem."

Nathaniel: "That's my girl!"

With regard to Jack and Ian bowing out of this battle: When Munro surrendered Fort William Henry historically, part of the terms did include that those British and British-allied troops involved in the siege would agree not to participate in active combat against the French for 18 months – this was somewhat discussed in the film as well. So that leaves Jack with a viable reason to tell the British army to cram their land war and stay home with his family, and Ian too. They're not getting burned twice. I really hope Jack lives another 20 years and becomes a badass, grizzled Minuteman during the Revolution, because his attitude regarding the tyranny of the British Crown over the colonials just screams of it.

Jack: "FREEEEDDDOOOOMMMMM! Oh wait, that's Mel Gibson's line. But hey, he was also The Patriot, right?"

Thank you for reading, thank you for reviewing, and stay tuned for the next chapter to see what adventures await!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathaniel and Cora are paying a visit to Eugenie and Giles in Albany while Chingachgook is away, and they meet some very interesting people in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End notes are in the chapter text due to length.

**Chapter 15**

_If you are able, save for them a place inside of you,_

_and save one backward glance_

_when you are leaving for the places they can no longer go._

_Be not ashamed to say you loved them,_

_though you may or may not have always._

_Take what they have taught you with their dying_

_and keep it with your own."_

_-Major Michael Davis O'Donnell-_

_June 10, 1758_

"Will you just please –"

"No, Eugenie. I'm drawing the line at the damn cravat. The rest is bad enough, I'm not spending an evening being voluntarily garroted by that ridiculous thing."

Cora turned from the steaming bathtub she had been about to step into, hastily throwing on her dressing gown and opening the bedroom door when she heard clipped footsteps coming along the hall and Nathaniel's beleaguered tones. She poked her head out to see her very irate husband approaching. A flustered, red-faced Eugenie puffed behind him with a nervous-looking maid named Martha in tow, who was holding a hideous white lace-trimmed cravat and an armload of assorted men's outerwear which she assumed belonged to Giles, who was of similar size and girth to Nathaniel.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Your cousin is trying to dress me like an English fop."

Eugenie huffed indignantly. "I am not! I am merely trying to make him presentable for a very important dinner party! There is no need to be so dramatic, Mr. Poe. Cora, please help me, he is being utterly impossible! He cannot go in buckskins!"

"I got married in them, why not?"

"You got married on a farm in the middle of the wilderness, and there was no Peerage in attendance at your wedding!" Eugenie bit out. Martha looked helplessly from Nathaniel to Eugenie, her dark eyes wide as saucers under the ruffle of her mob cap.

Cora's lips twitched with the effort to repress a peal of laughter, first at the thought of her rugged, backwoods-dwelling, Mohican-raised husband in that outlandish lace cravat, and second at the very idea that anyone, especially Eugenie, could talk him into anything he wasn't keen to do. She glanced at Nathaniel, her eyes twinkling with imprisoned hilarity and a measure of sympathy for his plight. She cleared her throat.

"Give me those things, Martha. Eugenie, I will take over from here."

"But I –"

"Leave off him, Eugenie!" Giles's voice carried up the stairs. "You can dress him up all you like, he'll still be just as uncivilized!"

" _Maluwèkwe…_ " Nathaniel muttered under his breath.

"I will handle it, Eugenie." Cora said sharply, holding out her arms.

Martha relinquished her load and Eugenie sighed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "Fine. Maybe he will listen to you, he loves you. God knows _I'll_ never get him to look like a gentleman!" She marched away stiffly, her shoes thudding sharply on the wooden floorboards, Martha on her heels. Nathaniel came into the guest bedroom they were sharing and Cora shut the door behind them. Navigating around the wheeled bathtub, she tossed the pile of garments onto the bed and sat down, covering her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking visibly.

"Cora?" Nathaniel crossed the room with sudden concern, sitting down beside her. "What's wrong? Are you upset?"

She drew in a gasping breath and fell backward onto the mattress, howling with laughter. "I'm sorry!" she gulped when she had recovered somewhat. She wiped tears from her eyes, stray giggles escaping. "I'm not laughing at you, I swear. It's just… All of it - Eugenie, and the very idea of _you_ wearing that awful thing around your neck!" She sat up, catching her breath.

"So you aren't going to try to talk me into complying?"

"Good God, no. You would look ridiculous in that monstrosity."

"I love you." He grabbed the collar of her dressing gown and kissed her soundly, pushing her back onto the mattress.

"We should probably find you something suitable in this pile before you distract me further," Cora said breathlessly, staying the hand that was working its way under her dressing gown. "As much as I personally love your buckskins, Eugenie and Giles will be apoplectic if we don't at least _try_ to compromise on your attire. Besides, my bath is getting cold, and if we can hurry this along, perhaps you can join me." He groaned and reluctantly stood up while she began to sort through the items on the bed.

They had come to Albany to visit Giles and Eugenie in their new home, and to deal with the financial particulars of the sold house in London; one aspect of which had been paying off the full balance on the land claim for the Cameron farm. Planting at the farm was long finished, and though it made Nathaniel anxious to leave off working on the cabin, he had grudgingly admitted that he needed a short respite from it. Chingachgook was not there to help in any case; he had taken the opportunity to head south to bring Kanshiopán up for a visit, as he had promised her he would when planting was done, and he would meet them here with her when they returned upriver. They had been here three days already, and Nathaniel's tolerance for this foreign environment was wearing thin. Eugenie was far more likeable than Giles, but she was still a bit much for him, and her fluttery doting overwhelmed Cora. She was now used to women like Sarah and Kanshiopán, who did not fawn or put on airs. Still, he could appreciate that Eugenie loved Cora very much in her own way, and doted on her because she had loved her father too. Giles was still Giles, with his disapproving glares and offhand commentary about Nathaniel's lack of refinement and his habit of going everywhere armed, but most of the time Nathaniel chose to ignore him or give a witty retort rather than let it anger him. Since he dealt with their finances, Giles would at least halfheartedly attempt to engage him in conversation now, though he spent much of his time holed up in his office and that suited Nathaniel fine.

Tonight, they had all been invited to a dinner party. Nathaniel felt that he must have been out of his mind to agree to it, but their host had asked personally for he and Cora to attend. It seemed that Giles, a solicitor from Boston with connections there, was just the man needed to handle certain legal and financial matters for a man with a political and business reach as far as Sir William Johnson's – and when Johnson had found out that Giles's wife was the cousin of Colonel Edmund Munro, he had apparently been delighted and had fondly remembered meeting Cora last fall. He was currently at his home in Albany, and had issued the dinner invitation yesterday when he had met with Giles and been informed that Nathaniel and Cora were visiting. Nathaniel dreaded the whole damned thing, even more so after Cora had explained the workings of a formal dinner party – he'd never been to anything like that in his life, and he didn't care to start now. But on the other hand, he had some respect for Johnson too, and didn't necessarily want to insult him by refusing, even if he didn't fully trust anyone that deeply entrenched in politics and war. Johnson had treated Cora well, and he was likely going to be an important client for Giles, so Nathaniel had acquiesced; Johnson was a businessman and a Baronet, but he was also a soldier and spent plenty of time living among the Mohawk and earning his place there, so Nathaniel figured if he had to endure a formal dinner, it might as well be with him.

Two hours later, bathed and dressed, they stood ready. Cora had brought some things with her, and Eugenie still had some of her clothes and sundries that had been left behind in Boston. From among those, she had selected a dark blue silk overgown with a pattern of pink roses and green leaves, and a petticoat of deep and pale green striped silk with a matching pink floral pattern at the bottom. She wore a gossamer-thin white fichu tucked into the deeply cut neckline with Alice's silver brooch at the center of her bodice, and Martha had done her hair up in a simple braided coronet.

"I don't think I've worn stays since we were in Albany last October. I feel quite restricted, and I don't know how I will survive in these things after so many months of wearing moccasins," she lamented, lifting her skirts to glare at the low-heeled, pointy-toed leather shoes that tied with ribbons over the insteps.

"I can sympathize, believe me," Nathaniel said from where he stood by the mirror. "I've never worn this kind of frippery in my entire life. I can't even imagine what my father would say if he could see this, and if my brother was here he'd never let me live it down. I am in no way meant for an Englishman's clothes."

Cora looked him over. He may not have been meant for such clothes, but it certainly didn't stop her from deeply appreciating how he looked in them. He had settled on a fine white linen shirt with a simple, unadorned navy-blue waistcoat. Having foregone the offensive cravat, the shirt's plain collar stood rakishly open below his collarbones, the deep tan of his skin stark against the snowy fabric and the tips of the wings on his hawk tattoos poking into view on either side. Tan buckskin breeches hugged his svelte, muscular lower half in a way that seemed nearly sinful to her, and she smiled wickedly to think he had, in some respect, gotten away with wearing buckskin after all. He wore tall black leather boots rather than shoes he could not tolerate after a lifetime in moccasins, and they were a better choice in fit since Giles also had larger feet. His dark hair was tied back neatly into a queue, bringing attention to his features; the strong jaw and chin, the grooves of his high cheekbones, his aquiline nose and firm, wide mouth. The deep blue waistcoat made the color of his eyes seem more greyish than their usual startling green. She picked up the knee-length overcoat that matched the waistcoat and helped him into it. Giles was thinner and not as strongly built, so it was too narrow through the shoulders but serviceable if he didn't make any broad movements. The cut and snug fit outlined his graceful, lean form perfectly. Still, though he was a sight to behold, it was strange and just a bit unsettling to see him dressed in the accoutrements of a world he would never belong in. It wasn't _her_ Nathaniel.

"You look quite dashing, really," Cora said with a small smile, her hands smoothing over his shoulders and back. "Though I truly do prefer your leggings and hunting shirts. I hardly recognize you like this, and by now I hardly even recognize myself. All this stiff clothing doesn't feel right to me at all anymore."

Nathaniel turned to her, picking up her hands in his. Her skin was darker now from working in the sun, and her once soft palms bore rough patches and calluses, a bold contrast to her fine dress and a reminder to him of all that he loved about her. "Maybe not," he replied, "but you do look beautiful. Like the day we married. Like you do every day, _ndah_. While I, too, prefer you in your cotton dresses and moccasins, I'll admit that it will still be a pleasure to look at you all evening, and later to remove all this finery from you, one piece at a time."

She sighed and kissed him gently. "I will be glad when it's over. I don't belong here anymore, and I want to go home with you. I love Eugenie, but being here is exhausting, and I've been so tired lately as it is." She went to her belongings and brought forth the wampum jewelry Chingachgook had given her for their wedding. She put the earrings on, then turned back to Nathaniel and tied the choker around his neck with a sly grin. "There. That suits you much better than that awful cravat. You are still Hawkeye, son of Chingachgook, after all."

Nathaniel smiled and closed his eyes, still dreading the dinner, but infinitely grateful for the loving solidarity his wife offered. "Let's get this overwith," he said, taking her hand.

* * *

"So, Captain, I'd say your second snowshoe battle was somewhat less successful than the first, eh?" Sir William Johnson leaned back in his chair, addressing the brown haired, grey-eyed man across the table from him, who had seemed to Nathaniel startlingly young for his position, perhaps his own age at most. Though well-dressed this evening, he had a rough look about him, and it seemed that like Nathaniel, he was accustomed to wilder environs. Once he had been introduced to them, he knew why. This was Captain Robert Rogers, who commanded the British Army's highly skilled Ranger unit known as Rogers' Rangers, undertaking weather and combat environments that regular infantry could never navigate or withstand. Unlike the red-coated, rigid British regulars, these men knew how to fight like woodsmen, and were a legendary asset to British forces.

"More's the pity," Rogers grumbled, stabbing at the roast beef on his plate. "A hundred twenty-five lost, leaving me with only fifty-two survivors in the end. What was supposed to be merely a scouting mission turned into a goddamned bloodbath, and parts of me are still recovering from sliding down that rockface." William Johnson had spent the last ten minutes regaling them all with the story of how the French and their Indian allies had ambushed the group of Rangers on a scouting mission at Lake George back in March, and how Captain Rogers had narrowly escaped capture or death during the fight by sliding several hundred feet down a rockface onto the solidly frozen lake. Nathaniel had to admit he was thoroughly impressed by the man, and thought it a pity Jack Winthrop was not here to meet him.

"No matter, Rogers. Your intelligence gathered has been valuable to our current campaign, and I shall certainly be glad of you and your Rangers when we move on Fort Carillon next month," interjected Lord Viscount George Howe, the Brigadier General who was second in command of colonial British forces to General James Abercrombie. Abercrombie was not here; he was currently with gathering troops where Fort William Henry had stood, readying for the northward assault on Fort Carillon. Johnson did not seem fond of Abercrombie in any case; Nathaniel got the distinct impression that he favored Howe strongly for commander-in-chief, as had England's Prime Minister apparently, but despite being a far better soldier, the younger man had been passed over due to Abercrombie's seniority and political contacts. Nathaniel privately thought that it was not surprising at all to hear of yet another foolish command decision made by men obsessed with power and politics that would likely lead to further defeat if they were not careful.

Howe cut a very different figure from any British officer Nathaniel had ever seen, and Cora seemed fascinated with him as well. At just thirty-three years old, he had been promoted to Brigadier General the previous December, and had worked closely with Captain Rogers since his arrival in November with the 55th Regiment to learn to fight as the Rangers did, wanting to reform British Army tactics to better conform to the style of combat they faced here. He seemed endeared to Rogers and vice versa, and he was a genuine and personable man. One would never guess he was a Viscount to meet him; he seemed at ease with all manner of company, and spoke to Nathaniel no differently than he spoke to Johnson. He wore no wig; his pale gold hair was cut unfashionably short, and there was a sharp intelligence that burned behind his deep brown eyes.

"I'd like to know more about your reforms to Abercrombie's army since your arrival, General Howe," Cora spoke up suddenly. Both Howe and Rogers turned to her in surprise that a woman should ask such a thing. Giles and Eugenie looked shocked at her boldness, but were mollified when the Viscount smiled broadly at her and set his napkin down.

"Certainly. I have had great success with changes I've implemented among my men in the 55th, and I have modeled my current reforms after some of these. Combat here is unique, and these men do not do well to have cumbersome, hot uniforms and long hair. Their hair has been shorn close, I've had their jackets cut to the waist and their tricorn hats cut down at the brim, and all that ridiculous lace frippery has been removed from coats and shirts as well. Equipment carried has been pared down to only what is necessary for survival. Captain Rogers here has been kind enough to train me in bush combat tactics, and has been instrumental in assisting me to pass that training on to Abercrombie's men and mine. It is my hope that these reforms will help turn the tide of this war, which, as you know, has largely been a failure apart from a few campaigns, most notably Sir William's victory at Lake George in '55. I have no doubt that your husband has some understanding of the benefit of training these men to fight more like natives rather than like sitting ducks." Howe gave Nathaniel a respectful sidelong glance. Rogers laughed out loud.

Nathaniel snuffed in amusement at Howe's honesty. "Well, sir, I won't deny that in my direct and recent experience, British tactics have proven useless in the face of a forest full of Huron, Ottawa, and Abenaki warriors, and it seems Captain Rogers agrees."

"With the size of this army, it could be said that victory is certain," Johnson interjected, "regardless of how the men fight, though I am in full support of your reforms, General. Light infantry is the wave of the future."

"God willing, you are correct," Howe replied grimly. "Abercrombie is eager to push this campaign forward, and I fear his haste may find us trouble if he is not careful."

"Hopefully it does not," Cora said. "You seem a wise commander of men, General, and I daresay you would have done well to lead this campaign yourself."

"You flatter me with your interest and compliments, Mrs. Poe." The Viscount smiled. "But then, your father was a singular commander himself. I first met him during the Flanders Campaign in '45, when I was merely an Ensign, and we were both at Laufield in '47 as well."

"I was with my father at Laufield. I was working in the field hospital – that was where I began my medical training."

"Impressive," Howe intoned, looking taken aback.

"Cora and her sister spent the last eleven years traveling with their father," Nathaniel said. "Cora has been a valuable surgery assistant, and practices well independently. This past winter she helped nurse a third of our Delaware village through an influenza epidemic, myself included, and she's stitched me up a time or two as well." His eyes shone with pride, and this did not go unnoticed by Giles or Eugenie, who had been largely quiet during the dinner conversation.

"I understand you were at William Henry with your father as well," Captain Rogers said. "Were you working in the hospital there too?"

"I was. Though my sister and I arrived only days before the surrender, so I was not in the surgery long."

"My brother Richard died of smallpox there, just before the surrender. I wondered if perhaps you had known of him?"

Cora had put nearly all of the harrowing experience at the fort out of her mind, but this inquiry brought a sudden and jarring recollection of a man she had sat with her second day there, caring for him into the night and holding his hand until he had drawn his last breath. His face had been covered by a beard, but he had possessed the same discerning grey eyes, and in the delirium of his last hours, he had spoken to his three brothers, James, Robert, and John, who had of course not been present. It had been immediately following his death that she had left the surgery and instinctively sought solace in Nathaniel's company – and he had kissed her for the first time. Her cheeks colored at the mingling memories of both the sad helplessness she had felt at the loss of life, and of the definitive and total surrender of her heart to the man who was now her husband.

She met Rogers's eyes with empathy. "I did know of him, Captain, yes. I cared for him at his deathbed, and I was with him when he passed from this world. He spoke fondly of you and your brothers, and I am glad of this fortuitous opportunity to tell you so."

"Then you have my undying gratitude, Mrs. Poe, and I am deeply indebted to you." The Captain's grey eyes were misted with sadness.

General Howe's shrewd dark eyes settled on Nathaniel. "Your wife is an extraordinary woman, Mr. Poe, and I compliment your judgment in choosing her. It is my understanding in my discourse with Sir William that you yourself are quite extraordinary as well. Is it true that you and your Mohican father and brother are the very reason your wife made it to Fort William Henry alive? I should be very curious to hear this story in detail."

"It is true, Lord Howe." Eugenie spoke softly. Nathaniel's eyes shot to her in surprise that she had spoken at all, as she had been so quiet all this time. "Mr. Poe and his family saved Edmund's girls and guided them and Major Heyward to Fort William Henry, and when Edmund was killed in that dreadful attack after he surrendered, they once again came to the rescue of Cora and Alice, taking them away from the scene and eventually removing Cora, at least, from the clutches of Huron captors who would have seen them all dead." Her voice trembled, but Nathaniel thought with bewilderment that he could see something akin to pride in her bright blue eyes when she tentatively met his gaze.

"Perhaps we should not discuss such an indelicate matter," Giles said, his tone gentler than was typical of him. "The loss of her beloved cousin and his younger daughter has been hard on my wife, not to speak of Cora's and Mr. Poe's losses as well."

"It is all right, Giles," Eugenie countered, patting his hand. "Though it is not my story to tell, and I would leave that to the discretion of Nathaniel and Cora, if they wish to share it with these gentlemen."

Nathaniel looked at Cora questioningly, and she nodded. Alternating between them, they gave the unnerving account of everything that had happened between the George Road and the cliffs. Though he was thoroughly piqued by the mention of Cora taking a pistol off an officer and later using it against an attacker (and Eugenie nearly fainted at this), Captain Rogers seemed particularly interested in the operations of Nathaniel, Chingachgook, and Uncas.

General Howe looked somewhat awestruck at the conclusion. "I offer my sincerest condolences for your familial losses, and I do deeply commend your courage and wit – both of you. Thank you for humoring my morbid curiosity."

Captain Rogers stared with open admiration at Nathaniel. "I have commanded my Rangers all over the northern colonies, Mr. Poe. You are a man of few words when it comes to yourself, and I would not have suspected upon our initial meeting whose company I would be dining in this evening, until I heard this incredible story. In my dealings with frontiersmen and Indians alike, I have often heard rumors and tales of a white man adopted and raised by a Mohican family, who exists between the Delaware people and the frontier wilderness - a formidable warrior in the same right as his father and brother. A man who was named Hawkeye by his people because he possesses unparalleled skill in marksmanship, and one who is known with fear and awe among the Huron and French-speaking tribes as _La Longue Carabine_ – so named for the distinctive and rare rifle that he is never seen without." Rogers gazed pointedly at Killdeer, resting against the wainscoting of the dining room wall behind Nathaniel.

"Well…" Nathaniel muttered with a dark grin, " _La Longue Fusil_ would have been far more appropriate, seeing as how it isn't a damn carbine, but a proper long rifle." At this, the men burst into raucous laughter and the mood lifted somewhat.

* * *

"Well, that was interesting, to say the least," Cora said as they arrived back at Eugenie and Giles's house. Nathaniel nodded, still deep in his own thoughts. As they came into the house and crossed the foyer to the stairs, Giles stayed Nathaniel.

"A word, Mr. Poe, if you please." Nathaniel sent Cora on ahead to their room, following Giles into his study where the older man lit a lamp and poured two fingers of Scotch whisky into a glass from the decanter on a sideboard. "Nightcap?" he asked with a sidelong glance.

"I don't partake, but thank you." Nathaniel set Killdeer down to remove the too-snug overcoat he wore, then sat down on one of the leather-upholstered chairs by the desk without waiting to be directed there. Normally Giles would have given him a pointed glare for this blatant dismissal of propriety, but he did not this time, he only sat down in his own chair and swirled the amber-colored liquid in the tumbler before taking a sip.

"It is a distinct advantage of being married to a Scot, that I am privy to knowledge of excellent whisky," he said with the barest hint of amusement.

"You didn't bring me in here to talk spirits, Giles." Nathaniel said with a wry smile.

"I did not, in fact. I have things I need to say to you." He tossed back the remainder of the glass and set it down. Nathaniel waited for him to continue. "Eugenie loved Cora's father very much. He was like a brother to her. They spent most of their childhood together. She was devastated when Edmund took his commission with the Army and it removed him from her company. When he married Eveline, the rest of the family shunned them, and he was lucky his father had already passed on, or he would have forfeited his inheritance. I will admit to being quite displeased in his choice myself, whatever you may think of me for that, but Eugenie would not be deterred. She loved Cora, and then Alice, as much as she loved their father."

"I can see that," Nathaniel said.

"Then you can also see how deeply affected she has been by what happened to Edmund and Alice."

Nathaniel's eyes glinted hard in the dim lamplight. "Aye, that I can. I was there. I've been with Cora through all of it, and my father and I have come to terms with our own loss along with her. I can appreciate how your wife feels."

"Then I must tell you, Mr. Poe, that I am grateful for tonight."

"How's that?"

"I had an opportunity, in observing you and your wife among the company there, to see you in a way I have not been able to previously – that is, to see you and Cora through the eyes of those men. Perhaps my inability to do so thus far is my own unwillingness to put aside my narrow view of the world, but I am getting old to change that much now. My point is, that you are responsible for preserving the most precious person in the world to Eugenie aside from our own sons, and putting our general dislike of one another aside, I do want you to be aware that I am grateful to you. If Cora had been lost as well, I fear Eugenie would have never recovered."

"I'd have done more if I could have. I tried."

"I know you did."

"You don't like me."

"I don't understand you, and I therefore cannot relate to you. But neither am I blind, and time has allowed me to see at least some things in this. I have a grudging respect for you. You are not the kind of man I or the rest of this family would have chosen for Cora, but you are the one who has kept my wife from losing her, and you are the one Cora chose for herself. She is a strange girl, always has been, and for reasons I can only marginally understand, she loves you and has been willing to give up every comfort to be with you. I see your pride in her, and that is something she has never had from the rest of us. It is both enlightening and humbling."

Nathaniel shifted, unsure of what was happening here. "All right, then. So are you calling a truce between us?"

"I suppose, in a way. I don't imagine we will ever see eye to eye on most things."

"No, I don't think so, but I'm not going anywhere, so we might as well be civil to each other." Nathaniel stood, and Giles followed.

"I suppose I can seek solace in the fact that my wife's cousin has apparently married a colonial legend." For the first time that Nathaniel could ever recall, the man genuinely smiled.

"Well, there is that." Nathaniel laughed softly.

He bid goodnight to Giles, leaving him in the study and climbing the stairs to find Cora waiting patiently for him in their room, reading in a chair by lamplight.

"This evening went well enough," she said, closing the book and setting it on the table beside her. "But I'm glad it's over, and I suspect you are as well."

"That I am. Very much." He took her hands and pulled her up into his arms with a sigh. "I love you, Cora."

"I love you, too." She hugged him close and let him hold her in silence, sensing that he just needed a few moments of calm.

"What was that all about with Giles?" she asked after a bit.

"I'll tell you later," he said, tracing her lower lip with his thumb. "I have something else to address with you right now."

"Oh?" She raised a brow. "And what might that be?"

"I believe I said something earlier about removing this finery from you one piece at a time," he whispered, his lips brushing down her neck to the swell of her shoulder.

"Yes…I do recall you saying that," she breathed, her hands sliding around his waist. "What else did you have in mind?"

He grinned wickedly and proceeded to show her exactly what he had in mind, pushing away the complicated turmoil of thoughts and emotions about the rest of the evening. He lost them all to the welcome distraction of loving this woman, and afterward, sinking into a deep and dreamless sleep in the comfort of her arms.

_You soak up my soul and mingle me._

_Each drop of my blood cries out to the earth._

_We are partners, blended as one."_

_-Rumi-_

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Vocabulary:

 _Maluwèkwe_ : "Damn you people!" (Let me just tell you I've been waiting for the perfect opportunity to use this one!)

This chapter was in no way what I originally planned it to be. It was one of those things that completely grew its own mind and just kind of took me along with it. It started with the original plan to have Cora and Nathaniel visiting Albany while Chingachgook has gone to fetch his lady. There had to be some conflict between Nathaniel and the stuffy relatives, and that evolved into Eugenie trying to dress Nathaniel for a dinner party. I felt a little sorry for Nathaniel there, poor guy. He was not amused. Can you hear Uncas? Because I can.

 **Uncas:** (laughing hysterically) "What the hell are you wearing, bro?"

 **Nathaniel:** "Shut up."

 **Uncas:** (still laughing) "DAD! Come here and look at your son! He looks like a legit white guy!"

 **Nathaniel:** "I am so done talking to you right now."

 **Alice:** "Stop teasing him, honey, he looks adorable!"

 **Nathaniel:** "Alice, you're not helping!"

He forgave me when he didn't have to wear the cravat.

Then I was thinking what on earth kind of dinner party would Nathaniel even agree to attend, and that's when things got crazy. I had gone to the trouble to do all that research on Sir William Johnson for chapter 7, and I thought it would be nice to bring him back for a little cameo, and then there was the matter of needing some other interesting dinner guests so there could be some intriguing conversation to make it worth Nathaniel's while. Knowing that at this time the prep for the assault on Fort Carillon was in full swing, I thought maybe Abercrombie, but he was commander in chief and likely wouldn't be in Albany, and I kind of think he was horrible at his job, and Johnson is pretty done with people who are horrible at their job after Webb. Then I thought of General (Viscount) George Howe, who was second in command to Abercrombie. He could believably have been in Albany at this time training British regulars. Everything I wrote about him here is true. He was a real pioneer in battle tactics, pretty much the father of light infantry in the British Army. He was friendly with anyone regardless of rank or station, and he was very well-loved by all his men, regulars and colonials alike. He was referred to later as "the best soldier in the British Army". Tactically and practically, he absolutely should have been in Abercrombie's position, things would have ended a lot differently, but politics and seniority won out and they got Abercrombie.

Captain Robert Rogers was a subsequent and equally fascinating addition, because Rogers' Rangers are legendary in this time period for the way they handled fighting in the wilderness like bosses – Rangers were the only non-Indian forces who could handle all the stuff British regulars couldn't, including doing shit like fighting on snowshoes in the dead of winter, and sledding and ice skating across frozen rivers to launch assaults on French camps. Robert Rogers was only 27 years old at this point. He was a BAMF, and I kind of thought he and Nathaniel really needed to meet. It was a bonus stroke of kismet that in my research I found out that Rogers had actually worked closely with Howe to train him in Ranger tactics, and Howe subsequently trained and prepped Abercrombie's army in the months preceding the battle of Carillon, so it worked perfectly for these two men to be at the same dinner party together. I found a few other ways for there to be odd little connections between them all – Howe was involved in the War of the Austrian Succession, and Mr. Phelps had mentioned to Nathaniel in a cut scene in the movie that Cora had first assisted him "In Austria when she was fourteen", so I took literary license with that. Robert Rogers's brother Richard did die of smallpox at Fort William Henry, so it was easy to make that connection with Cora too. I had an almost pathological happiness about getting to unleash my inner history nerd and make these guys characters, and I was seriously so excited about this chapter, so I hope it works well! About the rifle vs. carbine comment at the end of that section – in Cooper's novel, Nathaniel/Hawkeye is always annoyed at the misnomer of _La Longue Carabine_ given to him by the Huron – a carbine is a rifle with a shortened barrel – a sawed-off rifle I suppose – where Killdeer is a Pennsylvania long rifle. _La Longue Carabine_ is kind of an oxymoron, and _fusil_ is the correct word for rifle.

It was nice to have a little moment for Nathaniel and Giles to come to a mild understanding, too. Realistically, Giles is a judgmental dick, but he can't not change at ALL, and whether he likes it or not, he knows Eugenie loves Cora and she will make his life miserable if he continues to openly antagonize Nathaniel. Plus Chingachgook might kick his ass, and he knows it. :D At any rate, I felt that this was an appropriate opening for him and Nathaniel to have a man-to-man and for Giles to maybe pull his head out of his ass a little. I still like them slinging barbs at each other though, so I think that will continue, they've just reached a more friendly level of smartass.

I'd also like to shout out to my reader/reviewer NVMF, because this lady has given me a few helpful reviews now that led to positive changes in this story. This is why I love reviews – sometimes someone will bring up something I didn't think of, or just forgot, and it sends me down a new path, which is awesome! In the last chapter (14), the question was raised by NVMF of how Nathaniel and Cora legally took possession of the Cameron land. I realized that in paying a lot of attention to including other details, I had completely forgotten to say anything about that, and it's, oh, _kind of_ important, so thank you! I tweaked the text in 14 to include Nathaniel dealing with that. Here is what I have been able to find out about land ownership in New York during this time period (and I do not claim this is all gospel, it is merely my basic understanding of something that is _extremely_ convoluted): this specific area was all "British" territory (and I say that loosely because most of it was land the Indians had been dispossessed of) divided into patents or grants, including frontier lands east of the Appalachian Mountains in the Hudson/Mohawk valleys. In this story, we are in a frontier wilderness area a few hours from Albany by horse or wagon, which puts them somewhere west to northwest of Albany, maybe near Schenectady or even Saratoga Springs. That's nebulous and open to a little interpretation. John and Alexandria Cameron were indentured servants, so not wealthy at all, and unclaimed frontier land was cheap compared to land in Britain, and available to them where it wasn't anywhere else in the colony (coveted river valley farmland was not cheap and most of it was already owned by landlords and leased out or settled). Some of the frontier holdings were owned by private individuals (like William Johnson), and some by land companies, and it sounds like most were owned by the Colony of New York government, and were under British Sovereignty. The Camerons would have acquired their land probably on credit with a mortgage of sorts, or they could have paid for it outright per acre if they had that kind of money saved, and the boundary survey and deed of claim would have been filed with the county clerk in whatever county the land was in (in this case Albany County). For the purposes of this story, I've assumed John Cameron got the land on credit, and Nathaniel had to visit the Albany County Clerk to arrange to transfer the deed of claim and purchase the land. With what happened to the Camerons, and then with Nathaniel and Cora assuming ownership in their stead, I can honestly say I do not know, nor could I find any solid information on, exactly how that specific situation would be handled by the county clerk. There probably wasn't a death certificate for John laying around anywhere and I have no idea if the clerk's office would even care as long as they could still sell the land, so all I am able to say in the story is that it was dealt with squarely. There is no definitive way to search a database for variants of "how does one assume ownership of land when friend is killed in war party raid", much to my disappointment.

I loved writing this chapter, and I hope you liked (or even loved) reading it. Please let me know! Things will get even more crazy for our little family in short order, so stay tuned for the next chapter. Until then, happy reading and thank you!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An exciting and happy revelation occurs, but then grave peril strikes for the Poes and the MacKays, rocking the foundations of newfound peace for our heroes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End notes are in the chapter text due to length.

**Chapter 16**

_"_ _Give me, for my life, all lives,_

_give me all the pain of everyone,_

_I'm going to turn it into hope._

_Give me all the joys,_

_even the most secret,_

_because otherwise_

_how will these things be known?_

_I have to tell them,_

_give me the labors of everyday,_

_for that is what I sing."_

_-Pablo Neruda-_

The next morning, Cora woke to find the sun well risen, the room already growing warm from the summer heat and humidity outside. She was not at all used to sleeping so far past dawn anymore, but the previous evening's dinner event had seen them to bed much later than usual. She yawned and stretched, still feeling uncommonly groggy. Nathaniel stirred beside her, his arm snaking around her waist as he pulled her back against him, his long body curving around her.

"Good morning," he said sleepily. "It's broad daylight, yet I feel no inclination to leave this bed." He nudged her hair aside to seek the juncture of her neck and shoulder, planting soft kisses there. She smiled, yielding to him with a soft hum.

"Breakfast will no doubt be ready soon, or we've missed it entirely. I don't think we've ever slept so late."

"We didn't go to sleep till long past midnight, so it isn't any wonder," he replied, continuing his ministrations along the top of her shoulder.

"Mmmm. Much of that was your doing," she laughed.

"I didn't hear you complaining." He gently bit the nape of her neck, smiling at her tiny gasp and the soft shuddering exhale when he followed with a caress of his tongue.

"Such a troublemaker," she murmured. "But, I suppose it's the burden of being married to a barbarian."

"I was civilized enough yesterday," he growled, his hand spreading over her ribcage, fingertips finding the curve of her breast and stroking delicately along the swell beneath her arm. She turned over to face him with a soft laugh and kissed him.

"Yesterday, perhaps, but certainly not last night. I like you better uncivilized, in case you hadn't noticed." As she leaned in to kiss him again, a knock sounded at the door. "Yes, who is it?" she called.

"Beggin' pardon, Mr. and Mrs. Poe, but Mrs. Barrington's sent me to bring you breakfast, since you missed it in the dining room already." Martha's quiet voice replied.

"Just a moment!" Cora got out of bed, and Nathaniel groaned at the interruption, following her. After hastily wrapping her dressing gown on and making sure Nathaniel was at least mildly decent, she opened the door to the maid, who stood holding a tray with hot coffee and two covered dishes.

"Thank you, Martha, this is lovely." Cora moved to take the tray. The smell of the coffee wafted under her nostrils, and she felt a sudden wave of nausea that made her turn her head abruptly, her knees going weak.

"Mrs. Poe?" Martha asked.

"Are you all right, Cora?" Nathaniel came to her side, in his haste either forgetting or not caring that he was not wearing a shirt. He took the tray from Martha, who gawked momentarily, her wide eyes taking in the tattoos on his chest and forearms. She quickly looked away, her cheeks crimson.

"I'm fine," Cora said, leaning a hand on the doorframe while Nathaniel set the tray down and took her elbow, sliding his other arm around her. "Thank you for breakfast, Martha, please tell Eugenie we will be down shortly."

The maid curtsied and hurried down the hall. Nathaniel steered Cora into the room and shut the door. Her face had gone ashen, and her hands were shaking.

"What's wrong?" he asked, guiding her into the chair by the window.

"I don't know. The smell of the coffee just…I feel a little ill, and dizzy. Perhaps all the heavy food at dinner last night…I haven't eaten like that in ages, and I think it must be taking its toll. I'm all right now, really." She smiled weakly. Still casting worried glances, he sat down with her and they ate together, Cora refusing the coffee and drinking water instead. She normally loved coffee, and had secretly missed the luxury of it all this time, but she could not tolerate it this morning. She forced herself to eat two biscuits with butter and preserves so that her stomach would have food in it and settle. When they had finished, she freshened at the washstand and they both dressed for the day. As they were headed down to the parlor to find Eugenie, she met them on the stairs.

"It's about time you two showed your faces!" she exclaimed, looking rather harrowed. "You're just in time. Mr. Poe, your father has arrived, and he has…company with him." Cora and Nathaniel exchanged a glance and quickly followed Eugenie into the front parlor, where Chingachgook stood with Kanshiopán, and much to their surprise and delight, Máxkwikee, Wëlàhëne and Chëmamtët were also with them, having wanted come along to see their friends as well.

" _Nux_. _Kulamàlsi hàch?_ " _Father. How are you?_ Nathaniel hugged Chingachgook, then greeted the others happily, grinning and throwing an arm around Máxkwikee.

" _Ànati, shiki hèch?_ " _Dear mother, is it good?_ Cora said, embracing her friend.

" _Òsòmi._ " Kanshiopán answered, looking hard at Cora. " _Kèpe hèch kulamàlsi?" Oh yes. Are you well, too?_

Cora nodded. " _È-è. Wanìshi._ " _Yes. Thank you._ She looked to all of them with a happy smile on her face. " _Nulelìntàm èli pàekw._ " _I am glad you all came._ She suddenly remembered Eugenie standing in the doorway, watching this exchange and looking utterly lost, and at the same time quite agog to hear Cora speaking Delaware. Cora brought her in and introduced her to everyone properly, feeling a little sorry for her having been thrown into hosting such an unfamiliar and unexpected group in her home. At the same time, she thought that their Delaware friends had likely spent little to no time in this type of environment, and were also unsure of themselves here. Chëmamtët stared around him in awed silence, sticking close to his mother and stepfather.

Eugenie smiled nervously at them. "Welcome to my home, I am pleased to meet you. Please, sit down."

As Eugenie began making a hesitant but genuine effort to talk to them, Giles joined them. Knowing now what had passed between him and Nathaniel the previous evening, Cora had to credit his attempt at a cordial, if not a little forced, greeting; though he still seemed somewhat rattled, glancing furtively at Máxkwikee and planting himself firmly beside Eugenie after Chingachgook greeted him with a crushing handshake and a toothy smile. Martha came into the parlor with a tray of refreshments and tea, her cheeks bright red and her eyes trying terribly hard not to stare at their guests, but failing miserably. Cora almost laughed at the absurdity of the entire situation. She had never expected these two worlds to cross quite so concretely, and the result was rather awkward. Fortunately, it would not be for long; they had expected Chingachgook back any time, and had readied themselves to leave for the farm in short order when he returned. Five days was quite long enough to be away, and there was plenty of work to get back to. Sarah had agreed to come daily with one of the children to look after the animals while they were gone, and they did not want to inconvenience her longer.

By early afternoon they were on their way, Cora and especially Nathaniel feeling a sense of relief to be going back home to the things that were familiar to them. On the way, Nathaniel told Chingachgook and Máxkwikee about the dinner at Sir William Johnson's home and some of the things they had learned there about the upcoming assault on Fort Carillon. They also discussed progress on the farm and the cabin, which Máxkwikee offered his help with. Cora talked with Kanshiopán and Wëlàhëne about happenings in the village, and how Asuwakàn was getting along with her pregnancy. By the time the wagon rolled up at the farm, the sun was starting to set, and Cora felt completely exhausted. Kanshiopán would stay in Chingachgook's wigwam, and for this night Máxkwikee, Wëlàhëne and Chëmamtët would stay with Nathaniel and Cora in theirs; another could be put up tomorrow for the duration of their visit. Once everyone was settled, Cora lay down next to Nathaniel and slept deeply.

When she woke the following morning, she could already hear the men beginning to work in the early morning light, and nearby the soft voices of Kanshiopán and Wëlàhëne conversed. She got up to put her dress on over her shift so she could go down to the stream to fetch water for breakfast and washing. As she stood, a wave of nausea hit her and she sat back down for a moment. Her face felt sweaty and clammy, and her heart was racing. When she tried to stand again, the nausea won out, and she was barely able to get hold of the washbasin before she retched into it. A moment later, Kanshiopán's voice came from outside the doorway.

"Are you unwell? May I come in?"

"Yes…" she gasped, wiping her face on a linen towel. The older woman came in and helped her up.

"Have you been ill?" she asked.

"No. Well, yesterday I felt odd at breakfast, but it passed. Today it did not. I am not at all accustomed to the kind of food we ate while visiting Albany, and I fear my body is protesting. I am all right now. Will you and Wëlàhëne walk to the stream with me? I'd like to bring water up, and the air will help." Kanshiopán gave her a calculating look and took her arm after she had put her dress and moccasins on. The two women walked with her to the stream, where she splashed her clammy face with the blessedly cold water and took a drink.

Wëlàhëne filled the bucket to take back up. "You are feeling unwell," she said. "Let me carry it for you." Cora did not argue. She still felt weak, and was glad of having the help. She didn't notice the look that passed between the other two women behind her back as they began to walk back up to the cabin area; she was busy thinking about what needed to be done. The cow would need milking, and it and the ox and mules would need to be fed. She wondered if Sarah would come today, not knowing yet that they had returned. As if summoned by her thoughts, she heard her friend's voice call out from over the rise to the southeast as she approached with Aileen on her back and Maggie in tow. Looking into the morning sun, Cora suddenly felt dizzy. Her hands and face tingled, and the edges of her vision went blurry, then black. _Oh, damnation…I'm going to faint_ , she thought as her knees buckled beneath her. She was dimly aware of shouting for a moment, and hands grabbing her, then everything was gone.

The men were at the edge of the forest stripping willow branches for a third wigwam. Nathaniel looked up with a start when he heard Sarah's frantic voice calling out for him down the hill, and he saw her and Maggie hurrying toward Wëlàhëne and Kanshiopán. They were kneeling next to Cora, who was lying motionless on the grass. Panic sent his heart leaping into his throat. He dropped his work and sprinted down the slope. Máxkwikee and Chingachgook stopped as well and followed him.

"Cora! What the hell happened?" he asked wildly, dropping down beside her. Her face was pale and sweaty, but her breathing was normal.

"She was not feeling well when she woke," Wëlàhëne answered. "She was sick to her stomach. We walked with her to the stream, she wanted to come for water."

"Christ." Nathaniel muttered, scooping her limp form into his arms. "Something hasn't been right with her lately. I'm taking her to the wigwam."

"I will make an herbal tea to help ease her stomach when she wakes," Kanshiopán offered. The two Delaware women and Sarah followed them up to the wigwam, Sarah quickly introducing herself and Maggie to the other two. They had all heard much about one another from Cora. Nathaniel took Cora inside and laid her on the sleeping platform. Wëlàhëne set the water bucket down beside him and he wet a cloth to wipe her face, then placed it across her forehead, stroking her cheek as she began to stir with a low groan.

"Nathaniel…?"

" _Ntàpi, aholkwësit._ " _I am here, beloved._

"What on earth happened?" She opened her eyes slowly and focused on him.

"You fainted. You were sick this morning?"

"Oh, blood and thunder…yes, I felt terrible when I woke. I thought I was feeling better, but I seem to have been rudely disabused of that notion." Nathaniel's lips quirked. Her normal humor was not suffering, in any case.

Kanshiopán came in with Sarah on her heels, shooing a reluctant Nathaniel out of the wigwam so that she could see to her patient. Cora sat up carefully and took the herbal tea from her.

"I'm sorry to cause such a stir," Cora said, taking a sip. It tasted like peppermint.

"Don't you fash yourself over it," Sarah replied. "You certainly gave us a fright though, going down like that. I don't think I've ever seen Nathaniel run so fast. Your color's coming back now, how do you feel?"

"Better. Thank you all." She smiled wanly as Kanshiopán sat down beside her on the sleeping platform with an odd smile on her face.

"How long have you been feeling unwell?" she asked.

"Only really since yesterday, but I've been uncommonly tired before that, perhaps the last week or two? I have found I can barely make it through a normal day's work lately. It's been getting so hot, and then the visit to Albany..." She stopped when Kanshiopán began to chuckle, and looked at Sarah and Wëlàhëne, who were grinning at her. "What is so funny?" she asked, thoroughly confused.

Kanshiopán laid a hand over hers. "Do you remember when you came to me a few months ago, full of worries and doubts? Tell me then, dear child, do you remember when you last had your courses?"

Cora stopped dead and thought for a moment. "Oh my. Oh…We've been so occupied with settling and planting and everything, that I hadn't paid it any mind at all. I should have had them at least three weeks ago, perhaps even four, but…I did not." Her eyes went wide with the sudden comprehension of what her friend was telling her. "I am with child, then?" Her hands began to tremble.

Sarah bounced on her feet and clasped her hands in joy. "It would seem so, yes! Oh, this is wonderful news!"

Cora laughed breathlessly as they shuffled out to fetch Nathaniel. _A baby_ …she couldn't believe after all her worrying about it, she had not realized it yet, and she felt quite foolish. Her joy soon overshadowed that, however, and she found herself feeling a quiet warmth curling around her heart as the knowledge that there was a tiny life within her settled in, filling her with awe.

Nathaniel came into the wigwam alone to find Cora sitting up. She looked tired, but her color was back, and her cheeks were pink as she smiled nervously at him. He sat down on the platform and drew her into his arms.

"You look better. You gave me quite a scare."

"I'm sorry, _mo chridhe_. I certainly didn't expect it to happen."

"It isn't your fault, _ndah_. If you're ill – "

"I'm not ill, Nathaniel."

"But you – "

She framed his face with her hands and smiled at him, her dark eyes brimming. "I am not suffering from an illness. I am with child."

He stared at her, feeling the blood drain from his head. "Say that again," he whispered, blinking slowly.

"We are going to have a baby."

His eyes held hers intently as a storm of emotions brewed in them. Disbelief for a moment, then a touch of panic, then pride, and then total elation as they filled with tears and his face broke into a glorious smile. With a ragged breath, he pulled her into his embrace, kissing her forehead and then her lips.

"A baby…I'm going to be a father. You're going to be a mother. We have made a life, you and I," he said softly. He placed the palm of one hand on her belly, his eyes full of wonder.

* * *

" _CAW! Rrrrrrooooook!_ " Cora glanced upward into a tall pine at the raven hopping on one of its lower branches. It had been following along since they had come into the forest from the MacKays' farm, flitting from tree to tree or circling above as they walked. She had come with Kanshiopán and Wëlàhëne to gather herbs and wild onions, and Maggie had begged to come along since they had stopped at the house to say hello first. Chëmamtët had stayed at the MacKays' along with Sarah, Aidan (who he was getting along quite well with), and Alasdair. Ian had come to their farm today to help Chingachgook with work on the cabin's hearth and chimney, and Nathaniel and Máxkwikee were out hunting. Cora looked back to their path, adjusting the strap on the musket she carried across her back to a more comfortable angle. Nathaniel insisted she always be armed when she went into the forest, in case of animal or human predators, and she did not mind.

"Mama says you and N'thaniel are going to have a baby," Maggie said, sliding her little hand into Cora's as they walked.

"That's true," Cora replied with a soft smile.

"When will the baby come? Will I be able to hold it?" Her wide blue eyes shone with excitement, her golden brown hair glinting in the sun through the trees. She looked so like Sarah, Cora thought, wondering who their baby would favor.

"Not until next spring, but you certainly may hold him or her. I think you shall be a good helper, as you are to your mama with Aileen."

"Why does Kanshiopán do that?" Maggie asked, watching the older woman as she knelt to gather heart-of-the-earth. She performed a short prayer-song and dug a small hole to the east of the first plant, placing a pinch of tobacco there, and leaving that plant untouched, gathered others nearby. She looked up at Maggie and smiled, her brown skin crinkling around her dark eyes.

"Before I take from the earth, I must give thanks for what it gives me, and leave a gift for the _manetu_ who are the guardians of all the forest offers us."

"Are the _manetu_ like faeries? Can we see them?" she squatted down and began to look around the plants in fascination.

"I suppose they are something like that," Cora said.

"You cannot see them," Kanshiopán said, "but they are all around. They care for everything living, and sometimes when people are in need of help, they will care for us too, in their way." She smiled knowingly at Cora and they moved on. The watchful raven followed.

Later as they trekked back toward the MacKays' with Cora in the lead, she stopped, and the other two women stopped with her, standing in silence. Something was off, and all three of them could sense it. She looked up to see that the raven was no longer shadowing them. Placing a finger to her lips to keep Maggie silent, she listened and heard the sound of something or someone approaching. In a quiet rush, they ducked into the thick brush and lay flat on the forest floor. Wëlàhëne kept her arms around Maggie while Cora readied the loaded musket, pushing back the frizzen to pour powder into the priming pan. The sounds grew closer, and soon they could see a group of men about fifty yards to the north coming through the trees. They spoke in hushed voices, but Cora could hear snatches of French, and as they passed clearly into her field of vision, her blood ran cold. There were perhaps ten of them, a few white men, dressed for the wilderness in moccasins, wool leggings and linen shirts, some with toques on their heads. The rest were Indians, dressed similarly but with more metal adornment on their bodies and in their stretched earlobes, and nearly all of them bare-chested in the heat, their exposed skin and faces painted red and black in a manner that made them look as if they had come straight from the depths of hell. The front of their hair was shaved clean across, the remainder at the back pulled into a scalp-lock and decorated with feathers and quills. All were armed with trade muskets, knives and tomahawks. She had not known the differences in dress and appearance when she had first come here, but she recognized them now, as Nathaniel had taught her. These were Abenaki warriors from the north, and with them most likely French Irregulars, the equivalent of British rangers. _A war party?_ Coming this far south they couldn't be up to anything but trouble.

Her hands trembled as she held the musket ready. Wëlàhëne held one hand over Maggie's mouth to silence the girl's frantic breathing at the terrifying sight of the painted men. Cora's stomach knotted with nauseated panic, knowing that they were headed straight for the MacKay farm. They had to try to circumvent the war party and get to the house. A small sound to her right nearly had her jumping out of her skin. Her head whipped, and she breathed a sigh of relief to see that it was not a man. A red fox stood there, looking at her expectantly with its clear amber eyes. She stared back at it as grim determination set in. She knew what she had to do.

"I must get to Sarah," she breathed. "Wëlàhëne, you and Maggie must go with Kanshiopán to get Chingachgook and Ian. Maggie, can you help them?" Maggie nodded, her eyes full of terrified tears. "Good girl. Tell Papa and Chingachgook to come quickly, and stay put when you get there. I will send Mama to you. Be brave." They moved low in the brush away from the men who had now passed them. The Delaware women split off toward the Poes' with Maggie. Cora moved on alone, her eye on the fox as it darted ahead of her, making a route that would bring her around to the south of the MacKays' farmhouse, where the war party would approach from the north. By herself she could move much faster than the men, and she prayed she could get there ahead. She did not know where Nathaniel and Máxkwikee would be, and she could not let herself think of what might happen if they ran into the party. She kept her eyes on the red flash ahead of her, casting furtive glances behind to make sure no one followed her. It seemed like an eternity before she finally reached the edge of the forest. Scanning the farm, she could see Alasdair closest to her near the barn. She spotted Sarah and the other children near the house by the vegetable plot. Nothing else was amiss yet, but she needed to move before it was.

" _Wanìshi, Uncas,"_ Cora whispered to the fox. She hitched up her skirt and ran toward the barn as fast as her legs would go. Alasdair turned in a fright when she came barreling toward him, musket in hand.

"Miss Cora, what's wrong?" he asked, throwing down the pitchfork he held and coming to her.

"War party coming out of the north. French and Abenaki. There's no time, Alasdair, we must get your mother and the children safe!" He took off at a dead run with Cora behind him. When they reached the house, he flew inside to get his musket while Cora went to Sarah to tell her what was happening.

"Oh God," Sarah moaned. "Maggie!"

"She is safe with the others, they've gone to our place to send Chingachgook and Ian. You must take the children and go to them, you cannot stay here. Go, before they come and see you!"

Alasdair leapt off the porch, now armed with a musket. He stopped to ram a patched ball down the barrel, then looked to priming.

"Mum, GO!" he ordered. "I love you. It'll be all right, Da will come soon." Sarah picked Aileen up and ran with Aidan and Chëmamtët, disappearing over the hill. Cora and Alasdair dropped behind the southeast corner of the house, where they had a clear view of the treeline to the north.

"Miss Cora, you shouldn't be here," Alasdair hissed. "The babe!"

"We have no choice at present," she replied. "You cannot be here alone, and I am armed to the teeth thanks to my husband." She sounded more confident than she felt. The two of them against ten or more heavily armed men was hopeless unless Ian and Chingachgook made it here in time, and she could not dare to hope that Nathaniel and Máxkwikee were nearby enough to count on them coming. Nevermind that she had only ever used a firearm against another person once in her life. Her heart pounded hard in her chest, burning fear rising in her throat as the men came out of the forest and moved toward the house. She cocked the hammer back on her musket and met Alasdair's dark eyes. A sudden explosion of sound erupted from the trees to the south of where the party had come from, and Cora saw one of the Abenaki fall. Another shot sounded off, clipping one of the Abenaki men on the side, but it was only a flesh wound. The party switched direction to where the shots had come from, and Cora and Alasdair crawled along the side of the house.

A shrill war-cry sounded from the Abenaki as Chingachgook came running from the forest with Ian behind him. Both of their muskets sounded off again, taking out two more men at close range. They would not have time to reload before the rest of the party were on them. She looked to Alasdair and he nodded in comprehension. He stood to take aim, leaning around the corner of the house and fired. The shot was good but not deadly enough – it only hit the warrior in the leg, but it was enough to stop him for the moment. Unfortunately it was also enough to draw attention to their position. Alasdair ducked behind the wall and pulled his ramrod to reload as three men split off toward them. While Ian finished off the wounded Abenaki, Chingachgook followed the other three. He hurled the devilish-looking rifle stock war club he carried, catching one of the Abenaki men square in the back with it. As he fell, one of the French men closest to Cora took aim at Chingachgook. Cora swung her musket to her shoulder and fired, hitting him in the neck. The third man, another Abenaki, took aim elsewhere. She looked to where Alasdair was running to Ian's aid, having picked up an unfired musket off one of the dead men. As he yelled out and tossed it to Ian, the Abenaki fired. Alasdair went down, a red stain blooming on his shirt near his shoulder.

"Alasdair, NO!" Cora hollered. Ian roared and returned fire, taking out the warrior. Cora stayed hidden long enough to pull her pistol from her skirt, shouldering her empty musket before skirting the house toward Chingachgook. As she came around the corner, she heard another round of war-cries and another volley of shots fired. Her head jerked left around the corner of the wall to see Máxkwikee toss his fired musket aside and leap onto one of the Abenaki warriors, his tomahawk swinging a deadly blow. _Máxkwikee was here!_ She looked frantically for Nathaniel and found him barreling madly toward her, Killdeer in one hand and his tomahawk in the other. She did not have time to be relieved. An Abenaki attempted to cut him off in his path, and they collided with a mighty thud. Both went down to the ground, Nathaniel on top. Ian was dragging Alasdair to safety before he could be scalped while Chingachgook covered him. She frantically counted; only three of the war party left, two rangers and one Abenaki, who Nathaniel was still grappling with on the ground. He won out and struck his death-blow at last. He started to rise and Cora swallowed a scream as one of the remaining rangers aimed his musket. She ran from her cover toward the man who would kill her husband, pistol raised, but in her fury she did not see the other ranger until he was upon her. In a helpless split second, her instinct to protect herself and her unborn child caused her to switch her aim. She caught the Frenchman at close range as he swung his musket toward her, holding it by the barrel. The weapon continued its momentum as her lead ball made contact, and before he fell the butt struck a glancing blow to the side of her head. She buckled and fell to the ground. As her consciousness faded away, she heard Nathaniel bellowing her name, and then Chingachgook's ear-splitting cry as another musket shot sounded. After that, darkness reigned wholly and she heard nothing else.

_"_ _A falling star fell from your heart_

_and landed in my eyes_

_I screamed aloud as it tore through them,_

_and now it's left me blind_

_The stars, the moon,_

_they have all been blown out_

_you left me in the dark_

_No dawn, no day,_

_I'm always in this twilight_

_In the shadow of your heart_

_And in the dark I can hear your heartbeat_

_I tried to find the sound_

_but then it stopped,_

_and I was in the darkness,_

_so darkness I became."_

_-Florence Welch, Isabella Summers, Janet Florentina-_

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Well. This was an eventful chapter. I think I gave poor Nathaniel about six heart attacks. I'm assuming you all probably guessed fairly quickly what was "wrong" with Cora, but it would have been too easy and no fun at all for her and Nathaniel to realize right off the bat that she's pregnant, so I let them be a little bit obtuse about it since neither of them really has much experience with that stuff. With some of the other things going on in the story, it was easy for her to write off as food disagreeing with her, etc. (and I would imagine honestly that such an abrupt change from their frontier diet to richer food really might have caused some issues). And I really wanted the little moment for Cora to tell Nathaniel privately, because aaawwwwww. Meanwhile, I'm sure Uncas and Alice are hatching little raven babies somewhere.

Speaking of Uncas and Alice, our raven and fox have returned to the rescue! Alice-raven was with them in the beginning, but where did she go? Perhaps we'll find out. I super loved having Uncas-fox help Cora skirt around that war party to warn Sarah. That whole scene was a big fat hard thing to write, and I am super grateful for having a former Marine (and combat veteran) for a husband, who can tell me honestly if something sounds like utter bullshit when I make him read it. This kind of drama is not easy to write, and I strive to make things as historically accurate and as realistic as possible. This is a super frightening situation for them all to be in. For one, nobody wants to end up like the Camerons. For another, Abenaki warriors were scary-looking dudes – which is the entire purpose of war paint, right? We have also established that Cora is a certified badass (she's married to _La Longue Carabine_ , after all), but who really wants to be a badass at that price? I'm glad it's only fiction. And geez, that's the second time she's been rendered unconscious in this chapter! It's a good thing they get to have sex all the time, or they'd be really pissed at me right now. XD

Now, here is some of what I was thinking when I planned this part:

British forces are gathering heavy at the site of Fort William Henry at this point, and Montcalm knows this, has for months. Troops are still training and leaving Albany in groups, so it stands to reason that the French would send spies to gather information on numbers, weapons, preparation etc., and that they might also have sent parties to ambush troops as they traveled north from Albany – the same way they sent them to ambush Rogers' Rangers when they went up north back in March to gather intelligence. These guys might have been on their way to spy, or make trouble, or both. The French army's Abenaki allies were notorious for raids in the settlements. Chingachgook and Ian weren't taking the time to find out what they were doing there. Some of this will be speculated on by characters in chapter 17, but I wanted to show you my brain a little here so you'd know where this came from.

Here's something else for you that came up in a conversation with BlueSaffire the other day, and it fits here since there is a lot of musket-loading going on in this chapter. It seems there are a vast number of LOTM fans who have never understood two things in the film: 1. When Nathaniel asks Cora for the roll of fabric in the surgery scene and starts cutting it up (did you know that silk was part of her blue dress from the George Road?), and 2. When they are dispatching the courier, Nathaniel is loading Killdeer and Uncas says "Tight weave?" and Nathaniel replies "Silk. Another 40 yards." If you are one of the people who has always been like "huh?" Here is where you find out! I own a Pennsylvania long rifle (my BABY), and muzzleloader shooting is a dear hobby of mine. So here is what the heck all that stuff meant. "Muzzleloader" means any gun that uses a lead ball as ammunition with no jacket (like a modern bullet has), and has to be loaded by shoving the ball down the barrel with a ramrod. When you load a long rifle or musket (or any muzzle-loader gun including a pistol like Cora's), first you pour you measure of black gunpowder down the barrel. Then you take a small fabric patch, preferably lubricated (saliva works!) and set your lead ball on top of it over the business end of the barrel. Then you take your ramrod and shove that sucker down till it's packed on top of your powder charge. With a flintlock, there is a flint attached to the hammer. In front of that is a steel plate called the frizzen, which pushes back and exposes the priming pan under it. You put special priming powder in there and close it. When the rifle is fired, the flint strikes the frizzen and makes a spark that ignites the priming powder. The combustion from that passes through a small hole in the breech of the barrel and lights the powder charge behind the patched ball, and BAM! Your shot is fired (hopefully, because let me tell you pulling a ball out of four feet of barrel fucking sucks). SO. Nathaniel wanted the silk for patches, because the tighter and heavier the weave of the fabric, the further and more accurate your shot will be, to a certain extent. The idea is that the ball should be tight in the barrel so the powder exploding will build more pressure behind it from expanding gases and send it further and faster. Heavy silk makes great patches. So does cotton duck and canvas. And that's what the whole "tight weave" exchange meant. There you go, if you ever wondered, now you know.

In conclusion, I sort of apologize for the end of this chapter (but only a little), because it will understandably cause a bit of heart-gagging as to what the hell just happened, and to whom. BUT, suspense is good…and you'll find out. In the next chapter. Stay tuned!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the disaster at the MacKay farm, the families face healing time for minds and bodies, and Nathaniel has difficulty coming to grips with his warring emotions.

**Chapter 17**

_"_ _Like by the bed, left undone the day ahead_

_I will rise_

_Like by the ox who staggers as he falls_

_I will be shot down_

_Please see me through_

_Like by the past, and the gate that it provides_

_I will try, I will try_

_Like by the blood, between the sin and the love_

_I will fail, but I will try_

_I will see you through_

_I will see you through._

_-Lizzie West-_

The raven flew ahead of the two men through the treetops, calling out to them as they followed the straight and swift path she led. When the first shots rang out as they drew closer to the MacKays' farm, they sprinted faster. Nathaniel's awareness focused only on the path ahead and the sound of the raven's calls above, his footfalls thudding in the underbrush, his breathing heavy with exertion. The raven had come to them on a string of loud, desperate-sounding caws as they were headed home, their hunt unsuccessful, and the unease he had felt all day had exploded into full-fledged fear as he and Máxkwikee had started to run. Cora and their baby were in danger, and he knew this as surely as he knew the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears. Reaching the edge of the forest at last, he and Máxkwikee leapt off the embankment just north of the barn, the sounds of battle and frantic voices echoing in the air as they landed and ran hard toward the fray. He could see his father, and he saw Alasdair lying on the ground, the left side of his shirt soaked with bright red blood as Ian ran screaming to him. _Please, no._ He stopped and lifted Killdeer, his sure aim taking down an Abenaki warrior running for Chingachgook. Máxkwikee fired beside him, and another fell. Where were the women and the children? Were they somewhere safe? He could see only the men, but damn it, he knew Cora was here, he'd heard her yell for Alasdair as they had run from the forest. He could _feel_ her, and the bitter panic kept rising higher the longer he could not see her anywhere.

Máxkwikee dropped his musket and pulled his tomahawk, leaping onto another Abenaki with a shrill battle cry. Ian was dragging a limp Alasdair away. Nathaniel looked frantically to the left and saw Cora coming around one corner of the house, her musket over her shoulder and her pistol drawn, her face pale with dread. Their eyes locked as he bolted toward her, her relief lasting only a split second before he crashed into the Abenaki who attempted to cut him off, tackling him to the ground. Nathaniel fought viciously to maintain the upper hand. He grunted in pain as fierce blows from his opponent's knee landed along his ribs, knocking the breath out of him. The handle of the warrior's tomahawk struck him across the left cheekbone. He forced the man's tomahawk arm to the ground with his own, slamming his elbow hard into the red-painted forearm. Bone cracked and the warrior stopped struggling for a moment as the pain registered on his face, contorted with rage and adrenaline. Nathaniel took the opening; he swung his tomahawk downward and it connected with a crunching thump. He got up off the dead man, his only thought to protect his wife and the child she carried. He watched her eyes grow wide with panic as one of the remaining French rangers lifted his musket and aimed at him.

" _NO!_ " she screamed, running toward him and raising the pistol to stop the man. The other remaining ranger was headed straight for her, swinging his musket like a club. When he was nearly upon her, she swung the pistol away from the man aiming for him and shot the other ranger instead. Time seemed to slow down as the butt of the falling man's musket hit her above her right ear.

" _CORA!_ " Nathaniel roared as she slumped to the ground, blood already streaming down the side of her face and her neck. Still seeing the world in slow motion, his head whipped to his right when he heard Chingachgook's furious cry at the same time a single musket shot sounded. He watched his father's war club strike down the last ranger as he pulled the musket's trigger, the barrel jerking. Real time slammed back into motion again, and Chingachgook was running for him, still yelling. He had never wanted to see that look on his father's face again. He felt a searing pain in his left side and looked down to see his shirt torn jaggedly away there, his blood beginning to seep from the wound beneath it and stain the edges of the damaged fabric.

* * *

Cora came awake in stages. At first, she was only aware that she had a splitting headache, her head was bandaged, and her body felt abnormally heavy. She was confused as to why for a moment, until sudden recollection swept brutally through her mind and she remembered. Nathaniel screaming her name when the musket hit her. The crack of a gunshot, and Chingachgook crying out with futile rage. She remembered nothing else except the final thought, as consciousness had left her, that she could not save her husband now. _Nathaniel, oh God, Nathaniel…_ She opened her eyes in helpless misery. It was dark except for a single lit candle, and she still didn't know where she was. As she got her bearings and her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she became aware that she was lying on a bed, and that she was not alone. A warm, solid weight lay protectively against her side, and a hand rested on her belly. _Nathaniel._ She could smell his familiar scent now, and turned to find him awake, his eyes glinting in the candlelight, keeping watch over her. She reached for him, and a keening sound broke from her as he gathered her into his arms, holding her fiercely against his chest.

"It's all right, _ndah_. Don't cry, your head will ache worse," he whispered.

"Is the baby all right?" she sobbed.

"As far as can be told, you're both fine, but you've had a good knock to the head, and that took a few stitches. Kanshiopán saw to it."

"I thought he shot you…I heard the musket go off, and I couldn't…I tried…"

"You did right to protect yourself and the babe. My father took care of him, though he did shoot me…a little."

" _What? Where?_ " she tried to sit up, but the pain in her head and Nathaniel's arms kept her where she was.

"Ssshhhh. Don't. It's not so bad. The ball just grazed my left side and took a bit of me with it, is all. The bleeding was worse than the wound." Her hand searched in earnest, finding the muslin bandage. He winced. "Gently…I didn't say it wasn't sore."

Cora touched his face, seeing the broken skin and purpled swelling along his cheekbone, and began to cry again, burying her face against his neck. "What about Alasdair?" she choked out.

"He'll live, but he's in pain. Kanshiopán gave him something to make him sleep. The ball hit near his shoulder, nothing vital, but it didn't go through and Kanshiopán didn't have the right instruments to remove it. Ian and my father rode to Albany to get Owen, they'll be back by morning. Everyone else is fine. The children were shaken, but they're all asleep with Sarah now in their room, with Alasdair, and Máxkwikee and the others are in the common room. We're in Sarah and Ian's room."

His arms tightened around her and she continued to weep. Tears pricked his own eyes as she clung to him, and he could not stay the trembling that came from a place too deep inside him to reach it or warm it. It had been somewhat like this before, too, because he had lost his brother, and because he had loved Cora then and had been scared of losing her, but then it had been so new. Now…now she was so much a part of him that he could almost hear what she thought and feel what she felt, and if she was gone he would be destroyed. Now she carried their child, a heart made from them both beating within her. The near occasion of losing them came with a fear so powerfully violent that it took the very breath from him to think of what might have happened if his father and Ian had not come, if he and Máxkwikee had not already been on their way back. And there was anger, too, and many other feelings that he could not yet sort out in his mind because they mingled with the past, and because he was exhausted and physically hurting and scared, just as Cora was, so for now he did not try to sort it out. Instead he held her close to him, which was the only thing he knew for certain he wanted to do, and when her tears stopped and she slept again, he slept at last too.

Ian and Chingachgook arrived back safely with Owen Phelps not long after sunrise, and the whole house was awake with their arrival. Cora felt ill, as she often did when she woke, but the pain from the blow to her head made it much worse. Kanshiopán brought willow-bark and peppermint tea for her headache and nausea, and was pleased that she was awake and physically sound otherwise. She checked Nathaniel's side as well, and Cora could see for herself now that it was not severe; the ball had grazed the skin and torn a long streak across his flank, but it was only a flesh wound and had not pierced him. Kanshiopán applied a poultice of chickweed and heart-of-the earth and re-bandaged it with clean strips of muslin. Cora had a crescent-shaped wound above her right ear that had bled profusely, as head wounds do, but there was no fracture and it would heal well with the sutures. Chingachgook came in to see her for a few minutes, wanting to know how she and his grandchild were faring. He looked drawn and weary, and there was a look of haunted relief in his eyes as he gazed between her and Nathaniel.

Kanshiopán left them to assist Mr. Phelps with Alasdair, since Cora was not in any condition to do so herself, and Nathaniel insisted she stay abed and rest. She did not resist; she felt drained of her will to do anything at all, so he stayed with her and they talked a little, and she told him in a shaky voice what had happened from the very beginning when he quietly asked. She told him about sending the others to safety, and about the fox who had gone with her to warn Sarah, and he told her then about the raven guiding him and Máxkwikee. After this they lay together in sober silence. She could feel the slight tremor in his hand stroking her abdomen, and she felt it deep within herself as well.

She slept a little again after Wëlàhëne had brought stew and cornmeal bread to eat, and when she woke to the less than pleasant sounds of Alasdair having a bullet removed from him across the hall, Nathaniel was no longer with her. She got up cautiously, feeling a little dizzy at first, but once she had her bearing she went slowly to the kitchen, where she found Nathaniel sitting with Ian and Sarah. When she came in, everyone jumped to their feet at once, and Sarah ran to her and embraced her, crying. Ian hugged her briefly as well, with a hoarsely uttered "Thank you." Nathaniel put an arm around her and helped her to sit down with them, informing her that Chingachgook, Máxkwikee and Wëlàhëne had taken Chëmamtët, Maggie, and Aidan to their place to see to things there while Alasdair was being operated on. Nathaniel and Ian talked quietly about the attempted raid and the possibility of more danger. Ian agreed with Nathaniel that the party had likely been looking to attack British troops traveling from Albany, and any settlers in their way. Nathaniel thought that the French alone might not have attacked settlers unprovoked, but the Abenaki had their own agenda. With the British aiming to move on Fort Carillon soon, both men thought it best to be on high alert until things moved north completely. The dead had already been dealt with the day before, and no one spoke more of it, much to Cora's relief.

Mr. Phelps emerged a little while later to say that the ball was out without too much damage, and Sarah and Ian went to Alasdair while Kanshiopán was packing his wound with a poultice. After riding hard for half the night and then operating, the now-spent surgeon sat down to talk with Nathaniel and Cora, expressing his relief that everyone was alive and well, and he was quite pleased to hear that there was a baby on the way. He promised to pay Eugenie and Giles a visit when he returned to Albany to deliver a message from Cora giving the happy news, and apprising them of yesterday's events without going into alarming detail. She didn't want them to worry, especially Eugenie, she only wanted them to know that everything was all right, and they would plan a visit when things were more settled and the cabin was finished.

At Sarah's insistence and Nathaniel's agreement that she ought to rest another day, they spent that day and night at the MacKays' and returned to their farm the following morning after Cora had had a chance to visit with Alasdair. Nathaniel was pensive and quiet for the next few days, as they all were to some degree, but it worried Cora. After their initial conversation when she had regained consciousness, and that of the following morning, he had not talked with her more than a little at a time since, and he avoided talking about the attack with her at all if he could help it. He rose early in the mornings and spent all day working on the cabin with Chingachgook and Máxkwikee, stopping here and there to make sure she was faring well and not overexerting herself, or to let her tend to his side. He never spoke harshly to her, and at night he held her close to him while they slept, or when there were nightmares, but he was closed off deep inside himself otherwise. She tried not to take it to heart; there was a great deal for all of them to process, but she could not help but feel like some of his aloofness was related to her somehow, and she wished he would talk to her about it. She wanted him to, because she needed to talk about things too, and she needed _him._ He had never been so withdrawn before, not even after Uncas had died.

"He thinks hard and speaks little," Kanshiopán said, catching Cora as she watched him while they were pulling weeds in the vegetable plot. "It troubles you, I know."

"It does," she sighed, sitting back on her heels. "We have always talked about things, and I don't know what to make of this. He seems upset, and sometimes I can feel that he is angry, or scared, or…so many things, and I fear that he is upset with me somehow."

"Talk to him, Ahasxkwe. If he will not come to you, then you must go to him. He needs you more than he will say, and you know this too. It is part of loving someone to help them make sense of what they feel when they are struggling with too many emotions, and Hawkeye struggles." Cora nodded, knowing she was right. There was a war going on inside him, she could feel it. She would have to address it now, before it came between them.

* * *

Nathaniel came to their wigwam after dark. He knew Cora was there, he had seen her go in earlier, and he wondered if she would already be asleep. He felt more guilt pile on his mind for the way he'd been the last few days. The whole experience had his mind spinning, and he knew that it was hurting Cora that she could not lean on him now the way she needed to. He could sense her unease with his behavior, and her worry, but he didn't know how to begin to articulate everything that had been going through his head since that day. He had talked with Chingachgook a little about it, because his father had had some things to say in the wake of it; thinking for a second time that he was going to watch Nathaniel die had not set well with him. He had not been able to offer much back to Chingachgook except to listen as he needed him to, but he felt like a jackass after his father had looked sidelong at him before they'd parted company and told him to stop avoiding his wife out of fear. The man saw right through him, and damn if he couldn't make a stinging point when he wanted to be direct.

He lifted the doorflap to find Cora sitting on the sleeping platform, waiting for him. As she stood to face him, her eyes told him there would be no more shying away from her, and he knew Chingachgook was right. He sighed and took her by the hand, leading her away down by the stream where they could talk without anyone hearing.

"You have been angry," she said quietly.

He looked up at the stars. "I have been many things. That's one of them."

"You have also been evading me, and I think that I deserve to know why. Are you angry at me?"

"Not at you, no. Why would you - "

"Because I put our child in danger. Because my actions were technically foolish."

"Is that what you think? That I'm angry at you for what you did?"

"I don't know, Nathaniel. You've barely spoken to me about any of it, so I have only been left alone to wonder." He hated hearing the undertone of resentment and hurt in her voice that he knew was his own fault. "Sometimes I have been angry with myself for it, for what could have happened, but there was nothing else I could have done. If I had not gone to them, Sarah and the children would never have gotten away. Alasdair could not manage by himself, and if I hadn't been there in the end, you…you…" she shook her head, unable to finish the sentence aloud.

Nathaniel gripped her shoulders and looked down at her, his eyes glinting fiercely in the moonlight. "Cora, I know. I'm not angry about that. I'm proud of what you did. I am angry at _myself_. Because I wasn't here, and you'd have never had to do what you did if I had been. Because Ian could have lost his son, and because I could have been too late to help any of it, like last time, like…" _Like I was too late to save Uncas and Alice._ He did not say it, but he knew she heard it anyway. He saw it in her face as her frustration with him faded and was replaced with aching sorrow.

" _No_ , Nathaniel. Please do not think that. It was not your fault, you must know, and your brother told you the same. None of this has been your fault, not what happened then, and not what happened a few days ago. I did what I had to do, and so did everyone else. So did you. Who knows how badly it might have gone if it had been another way?" She slipped her arms around his waist and leaned against him, laying her head on his chest. He was rigid with the tension that rippled through him. "I made it to Sarah, and you made it to us, because of something I still do not understand, but your brother and my sister are _with us_ , just like they said when you saw them. And I have never forgotten what Alice said to me when I dreamt of her last. _You must have courage. You must fight._ I have come to realize that those words were not just about snowstorms or illness, Nathaniel. It was never meant to end there. Those words are about every winter that comes, every difficulty and danger we will face, _together_. Everything in this life that we will see each other through. But we cannot help one another if you lock everything away and will not come to me with what causes you pain."

Nathaniel yielded to his emotions at last and put his arms around her, burying his face in her hair with a ragged sob. The tension went out of him as he held her pressed as close as he could get her without absorbing her, and he could feel her heart beating in tandem with his against his chest. He began to shake uncontrollably again, as he had that first night when the fear of further loss had threatened to drown him in its unforgiving wake. This was what he had not been able to show her, what he had tried in vain to push away because it debilitated him and he didn't know how to deal with it. He'd never had to before, not like this.

"I have never in my life been so afraid, Cora," his voice broke in anguish. "The thought of losing you, losing our child…It's unbearable."

"As it is to me, Nathaniel. I know, because I have faced losing you, too," she whispered, her hands stroking his back as he trembled harder.

"I could not put it to words, I could not tell you how much it scares me, how helpless it makes me, and I'm sorry for the last few days. I know you've needed me, and I'm so damned sorry I haven't been what you needed." His voice was thick with regret. He cupped her jaw in his hands, stroking the shadows beneath her eyes and the softness of her cheeks with his thumbs, his long fingers threading into her hair at the back of her neck. "I need you as I need the air I breathe, and the idea of being without you terrifies me more than anything I've ever faced before. That fear won't leave me yet, and I don't know what to do with it."

"Give it to me," she whispered, her dark, tear-filled eyes reflecting the stars, telling him he did not need to be alone with it. That she would absorb some of this pain if she could, and that he would do the same for her, because this was what it was to truly love someone.

He drew her face up to his and kissed her desperately, his mouth hard and hungry and full of a possessive, dark passion he had not felt since the day by that other stream so many months ago, after they had lost so much. She took it from him now and gave the same back to him, just as she had then, both of them borne up by a kind of madness that throbbed between them, feral and powerful and demanding fulfillment. They sank onto the earth, wrapping around each other, him cradling her head and pressing urgently against her as he brought her beneath him, their kisses almost brutal now. He wanted to breathe her, to consume her, to lay claim to her. For a brief rational moment, mindful of their injuries, he tried to slow down, to be gentler with her, but she did not want him to. She wanted the wild darkness, and she arched demandingly against him, welcoming it, unafraid of his ferocity or the rawness of his need, and so this time he gave in and unleashed it.

Grasping her cotton skirt, he yanked it up around her waist while her hands tugged at his at his breechclout to free him. Then he was with her completely, burying himself inside her with a primal growl, their ragged breathing mingling in the night air with the sound of the water in the stream rushing by and all the sounds of life around them. Their mouths melded once more in a searing kiss, lips and tongues echoing the rhythm of their frantic coupling. He claimed her mercilessly, and she claimed him in return, her legs wound tightly around him and her hands raking down his back as the mad, dark passion between them seemed to chant with the beating of their hearts, _Mine. Mine. Mine._ And when the night around them shattered and they came undone together, the trembling within him finally ceased and left him in peace as he kept her close against his body, surrounded by her and the serenity that only they could give one another.

_"_ _I don't mind_

_I don't mind_

_This time, I don't mind_

_I will give myself to you_

_In a world I don't belong_

_I will fall, and let you carry me on_

_Like by dawn, the sun will soak the afternoon_

_Please see me through_

_I will see you through_

_Hold me close, and I will try_

_I will see you through_

_I will see you through."_

_-Lizzie West-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:
> 
> This fast update was brought to you by me having this week off from school, and by consistent toddler nap times! I start a research course next week so the next one will not be as quick, but I'm glad I could at least get this one done. So, now you know what happened at the end of chapter 16. And you also know where Alice-raven went when she left Cora and the ladies behind in the care of Uncas-fox. I'll tell you now that when I ended chapter 16, even I didn't know exactly what had happened yet – I had a couple of scenarios in mind but I had not decided 100 percent yet. None of them involved Cora getting shot, though – I already shot poor Alasdair, and I'm just not THAT mean, nor did I want to kill anyone off because dammit, these people have had enough! Plus, I have plans for Alasdair, so he wasn't allowed to die, only be slightly maimed. Since I almost killed Nathaniel with influenza and viral pneumonia over the winter, I decided not to shoot him outright and just gave him some nasty boo-boos. Ian, Máxkwikee and Chingachgook got away scot-free, those lucky bastards. ;)
> 
> This was largely what I refer to as a "Feelings Chapter". There was a lot of excitement in 15 and a lot of drama and freakiness in 16, so it was inevitable that 17 would deal pretty much entirely with the aftermath of what happened at the MacKays' farm. Realistically they wouldn't just move on to the next thing after that, and it's important to address how they deal because a big theme of this story is how Nathaniel and Cora love and support each other through all these different things – basically how they learn to live out their marriage vows. Nathaniel was being an introverted emotional wreck in this chapter, and it's not hard to understand why. We already know he has some survivor guilt about Uncas and Alice, and that came back to haunt him big time here when he was out hunting with Máxkwikee and they almost didn't make it back to help save the day (thanks, Alice-raven!) He's feeling extremely protective already because Cora is pregnant, and he's awfully attached to her now after all this time, so this whole situation left him pretty shaken up because he has a lot more to lose. And he's a badass, but he is also human and not infallible, so we get to see that here. He totally drops the ball on giving Cora the emotional support she needs after a horrific experience because he's having his own internal breakdown and doesn't know how to cope, so as stubborn people often do, he internalizes it and avoids Cora because he can't tell her what he needs. He's probably lucky his wife is so perceptive and compassionate, and that his dad's girlfriend gives her good advice, or he'd be sleeping in the half-finished cabin by himself. I delved into his issues more than anyone else's, but that doesn't mean no one else is having a hard time. The MacKays have a lot going on, Chingachgook was totally freaked out, and Cora is just mentally exhausted and wants Nathaniel to open up so they can both be there for each other, which of course he finally does after a kick in the ass from Chingachgook and an unavoidable confrontation from Cora.
> 
> Well, that's about it for this chapter. I'm about ready for some happy stuff to go down, and you probably are too, so let's see what the future has in store for our little family. Thank you for reading and stay tuned!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things have settled down after the Battle of Carillon, Cora gets a wonderful surprise, and our little family deals with a difficult anniversary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author notes are in the chapter text due to length.

**Chapter 18**  

_“I thought the earth remembered me,_

_she took me back so tenderly,_

_arranging her dark skirts,_

_her pockets full of lichens and seeds._

_I slept as never before, a stone on the river bed,_

_nothing between me and the white fire of the stars_

_but my thoughts, and they floated light as moths_

_among the branches of the perfect trees._

_All night I heard the small kingdoms_

_breathing around me, the insects,_

_and the birds who do their work in the darkness._

_All night I rose and fell, as if in water,_

_grappling with a luminous doom._

_By morning I had vanished at least a dozen times_

_into something better._

_-Mary Oliver-_

_July 25, 1758_

            “Got you,” Cora whispered with a triumphant smile, swiftly tugging back on her fishing line to set the hook. She carefully pulled the length of it back toward the bank, lifting a decent-sized trout out of the stream, her third of the day. As she strung it on the line in the water with her first two, she looked over at Chingachgook, who was a little way downstream with Chëmamtët, teaching him the finer points of spear-fishing. Chingachgook had speared several trout himself already, and though Chëmamtët was still learning and had thus far been unsuccessful, he was determined. Beside her, Wëlàhëne pulled her line in with another trout on the hook.

            “This is a good day to fish,” she said, pleased.

            “That it is,” Cora replied, dropping her baited hook back into the stream. “We shall eat well tonight.” There was a wave of ripe squash she’d brought in that they could cook with wild onions and dried herbs, and she could bake fresh corn bread over the fire coals in the iron pot when they returned home. It was late morning now, and the day was growing warm already, though it was lovely in the shade where they fished by the stream. Nathaniel had sent her and Wëlàhëne along with Chingachgook and Chëmamtët early this morning, while he and Máxkwikee had stayed behind with Kanshiopán. Cora enjoyed fishing – the quiet of it relaxed her, and she could sit restfully for the most part without exerting herself, especially if it was a day when she felt sick with the baby. Today she had a suspicion that Nathaniel had sent her away for a reason, though she had not pressed him for information. He had seemed a little nervous, and she knew he was hiding something, but he had also had an air of excitement that was almost boyish in nature and rather adorable, so she had agreed to go and let him have whatever little secret he was keeping.

            She and Wëlàhëne conversed quietly here and there while they sat enjoying the pleasant day, and Cora thought to herself how glad she was for the peace of these last weeks. Alasdair was doing well enough; his wound had healed without infection thanks to Mr. Phelps’ careful work and the herb poultices Kanshiopán had taught Sarah to make, but he was still in some pain recovering from the physical damage and would not be up to his previous activity levels for a while yet. There had been no more reports of war parties or attacks nearby after the incident in June, though it had taken a few weeks and the finality of the British moving north to Fort Carillon to make them all breathe easy again, especially Nathaniel and his father and Ian. Until very recently, Nathaniel would not hunt or set snares more than a mile or two away, if he went at all. One of the men always stayed behind at the farm while two went out, in the event something should happen. Even now that things were settled again Cora still sensed anxiety in him whenever anyone went into the forest, especially her, but they had need of things the forest provided for food and herbs, so it could not be helped. She never went alone and was always armed, but she knew it would take time for him, and herself too, not to be on edge or feel overly cautious.

            General Abercrombie had attacked Montcalm’s army at Fort Carillon on the eighth of July. It should have been the simplest victory imaginable for the British. Montcalm’s forces had totaled around thirty-six hundred at most, including regular troops, militia, and Indian allies. Abercrombie had had, all told, some fifteen thousand troops in regulars, militia, rangers, and Indian allies. Montcalm had been staggeringly outnumbered this time, and Abercrombie should have been able to sweep in and take Carillon in less than a day, however this had not been the case. The campaign had instead been a debacle of astronomical proportions. Jack Winthrop had come with news of less than a week afterward, when he had taken a trip to Albany and heard the details of it from some of the militia men he knew. Abercrombie had been too confident in the size of his force, and ignoring his engineers’ advice, had launched a full frontal assault on the fort without waiting for his field artillery, which had been a grave tactical error on his part – as had his disregard for several other sound tactical options for the attack that did not involve sending thousands of men straight into the jaws of death. Because of Abercrombie’s disastrous incompetence, and despite British numbers, Montcalm had won, and more than two thousand British had been killed or injured before the remaining force had panicked and retreated to their fortified camp near the remains of Fort William Henry.

            Captain Robert Rogers and his rangers, along with other light infantry, had been among the first to make the push at Carillon, and Cora had been relieved at least to hear that Rogers had apparently survived, as she and Nathaniel had rather liked him. Lord Viscount George Howe had unfortunately not fared so well. On the sixth of July when Abercrombie’s army had been traveling north, General Howe had led the 55th Regiment and a militia unit as one of four columns marching on foot. At Trout Brook, the column had clashed with a detachment of French returning to Carillon, and a skirmish had ensued. The British had fought admirably and suffered few casualties, but one of the few had been General Howe, who had reportedly died in the arms of his scout, a ranger named Israel Putnam. This news had been distressing to hear, and Cora had wept in regret for the loss of the young man. She had thought him not only a good-natured person, but a highly capable and intelligent leader, and like Rogers, she and Nathaniel had liked him and had respect for him. He had been such a rare type of officer and peer, and had held the love and loyalty of the men who served under him in a way that many of his rank and station never did. To her it was a tragedy to lose such men, because she thought the British army could stand to have many more men like him as leaders. More than anything, she felt torn because she had stood on both sides of the line in this war, and the longer it dragged on, the more senseless and self-serving it seemed to get for those who sat across the ocean, asking thousands of people to sacrifice their safety and their lives for territorial rights that had never been theirs to fight over in the first place. _Out of greed for land and furs…more land than a man can use,_ Nathaniel had once said. She had come to this life from that culture of excess, and she did not want it back in the least after the past year.

            Early in the afternoon, the group headed back downstream through the woods toward the farm, each of them with a string of trout. Chëmamtët carried his two proudly, finally having had some success with his spear under Chingachgook’s guidance. On the way home, they made a detour to gather wild strawberries in the clearing Nathaniel had shown Cora when they had first come here. She had brought a large basket with her in anticipation, since she knew they would pass this way and the berries were now ripe for picking. They stopped by the waterfall pool for blackberries as well, and she filled her basket to the top. Chingachgook took over Cora’s string of trout so she could manage her nearly overflowing load, and she walked along with a smile, her fingers stained red and purple with berry juice. She had looked forward to this type of day all summer, and it was wonderful to be able to enjoy it now.

            In a few days, Máxkwikee, Wëlàhëne, and Chëmamtët would be leaving to travel back downriver to their home village, and Cora was grateful that the remainder of their visit had been far more relaxed and lovely than the first part had been, though she was sad for their impending departure. It would seem far too quiet without Chëmamtët, who was a sweet and spirited child, and she would miss the company of Wëlàhëne, who along with Sarah and Kanshiopán, had been invaluable to her as a source of wisdom, knowledge, and help in these early weeks of her pregnancy. She knew that Nathaniel would be sorry to see them all go as well. Because everything had been in such upheaval when they had met, she had only witnessed a precious few brotherly interactions between Nathaniel and Uncas, and she very much liked to see him enjoying this time with Máxkwikee. If he could not have his brother, at least their friend was good company for him. Kanshiopán would not be going back with them; she had decided to stay for a while when Chingachgook had asked her if she might like to. It had not been an easy choice for her to make, to leave her village, but she was happy here too, and for now she had agreed to stay through the winter and see how things worked out. Cora was glad for it, not only for her companionship, but she would be here when the baby came in February. Nathaniel seemed content with it too, since he enjoyed her presence and liked to see his father happy, and he worried less about Cora and the baby with her there to help manage things.

            Walking up the rise from the stream toward the cabin, it was quieter than usual. Typically, the sounds of cabin work and voices rang in the air, but today there was nothing but the sounds of the birds. The outside of the cabin appeared complete, as it had for a few weeks now. The fire-ravaged logs of the original walls had been replaced once the hearth and chimney had been reconstructed from stone. The old log chimney had been taken down, and the material had been partially repurposed to build a small smoke-house where fish and meat could be preserved. The roof had also been repaired of fire damage and had new split-plank shingles covering it. In addition to the improved hearth and chimney, two more small rooms had been added on, one for Nathaniel and Cora, and one for Chingachgook. Nathaniel had heeded her offhand wish and had put glass in the windows as well, which would be well worth the money spent on them come winter. Cora scanned the property, finding nothing amiss but the absence of Nathaniel and Máxkwikee – perhaps they were working inside? She glanced over at Chingachgook, who was having difficulty hiding a smile as they approached the cabin. Her eyes narrowed at him and she stopped walking.

            “What’s going on?” she asked suspiciously. Something was _definitely_ afoot, and it seemed she was the only one who had no idea what.

            Wëlàhëne was also smiling now. “I think you are about to find out, _nichus_ ,” she said, taking the basket of berries from her and gesturing toward the cabin. Cora turned around to see Nathaniel and Máxkwikee come out of the front door with Kanshiopán, followed by the entire MacKay family. Maggie was bouncing on her feet, brimming with restrained excitement, and all of them were grinning from ear to ear.

            “What are you all doing here? What is this?” Cora laughed now, looking expectantly at Nathaniel, who came forward to her with a broad, mischievous smile still spread across his face and took her hand in his.

            “They came to help us get things in order inside before you returned. I wanted to surprise you.”

            Her confusion gave way to elation as she gasped and clapped a hand to her mouth, looking around to everyone in disbelief. “It’s ready? Truly?” She was met with smiles and nods, and a few giggles.

            “That it is,” Nathaniel said. “Would you like to see it?”

            “Of _course_ I want to see it!” She practically squealed with excitement, tugging at his hand as they stepped up onto the wide, covered porch.

            “Wait,” he said, stopping her for a moment, his eyes twinkling down at her. “This ought to be done proper.” He bent over and scooped her up into his arms, and she gave an abrupt yelp, laughing as he carried her ceremoniously over the threshold.

            “Oh my,” she breathed as Nathaniel set her down inside and watched her looking around. Her quiet astonishment made him feel warm inside, and confident that he’d done well by her. Though she had seen the cabin under construction, he had kept her out recently to hide the progress, citing concern for her safety while interior repairs were made. He had felt mildly guilty about deceiving her, but it was well worth it now, to be able to surprise her like this with so much help from their friends. Everyone had descended upon the place as soon as Cora had left with Chingachgook, and they had worked all day to make it ready. Everything had been swept and arranged neat and tidy, and the clean smell of pine wood from the new timber lingered in the air. This original part of the cabin had a dedicated kitchen on the hearth side, and the open space on the other side would serve as the common room. Above it there was a loft where guests, and someday children, could sleep. The whole place would still need some things - curtains on the windows, more furniture - but that would come in time, and he wanted her to be able to choose those details for herself.

            He followed her as she walked slowly through the kitchen area, taking in all the details. All the necessities they had stockpiled in preparation for this day had been set up just so, thanks to the crew outside. He had built plenty of shelving for storage, and a long wooden countertop beneath the window. She ran her hands over the stone fireplace with its iron pot-hanger and cauldron in place, and a brick bread oven with an iron door built into the side. Turning to the long, sturdy wooden table and benches that she had never seen before, she laid her palms on the hand-scraped top.

             “Did you do this?” she asked incredulously, looking up at him.

            “I did. Ian helped, as he’s got the right tools for such things, and Alasdair too now that he’s becoming able again.”

            “That explains you keeping me out of here all this time,” she laughed, “and all those days Ian or Alasdair came over and you wouldn’t tell me what you were doing in here.”

            He smiled proudly and nodded. “Aye. Do you like it?”

            “It’s splendid. I love it.” She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him. “And there is plenty of room for family and friends to sit here with us, too.”

            “That was the idea.” He took her hand again. “Come, there’s more to see.”

            She followed him across the kitchen to the new part of the cabin adjacent to it, where he opened one of the wooden doors and led her into the first bedroom. The glass window provided a perfect view of the forest’s edge, and the stream disappearing into it. All of their things from the wigwam had been brought in, and the trunk from Eugenie’s with her belongings that she had left at the MacKays’ over the winter stood against one wall beside a wide wooden stand that now held her washbasin. A mirror hung on the timber wall above it, and their various toiletry items had been placed on the stand next to the basin. Across from the window stood a small bedside table and a handsome log bedstead. The tightly laced sacking across the frame supported a tick mattress topped with a dense feather bed and pillows that they had ordered in Albany while visiting the previous month. Her eyes filled with tears when she saw the quilt that covered it; she had been working on it with help from Sarah since the previous fall, and they had been trading it back and forth since their return in April. It was pieced together from fabric left over from things they had both sewn over the past year, each large block made of lighter colored plain fabric with a star pattern in the center made of colored scraps Cora had carefully saved. Blue pieces from the fabric of the first dress she had made herself here, green pieces from making Nathaniel’s wedding shirt, and others from different projects or clothing that couldn’t be mended anymore. Sarah had taken the quilt these last few weeks and had clearly managed to finish it, and it looked striking on the new bed. She had chosen the pattern specially because of her and Nathaniel’s fondness for stargazing, and what stars represented to them both.

            “Oh, Nathaniel…this is so wonderful,” she whispered, lying down to test the feel of the soft bed and happily throwing out her arms to invite him to join her. “How on earth did you do all this?”

            He flopped down beside her and propped himself on one elbow. “Well, the furniture was done with Ian’s help again, and we built this bedstead and one for my father in the next room. Jack picked up the bedding for me when he was in Albany a few weeks ago, and Ian’s had it until now. Sarah brought the quilt along today. You’ve both done an admirable job on that, _ndah_. It’s beautiful.”

            Cora took his face in her hands and kissed him thoroughly, happy tears rolling down her cheeks.

            “This is surely the best surprise I’ve ever had,” she sniffled. “I think I must have the finest husband and friends in the whole world.”

            “Are you satisfied with your new home, then?” He smiled down at her, brushing her tears away.

            “ _Our_ new home, and yes, I absolutely love it! It’s better than I could have ever imagined when we talked about it. It’s perfect, Nathaniel. Thank you.” She hugged him close and looked around the room once more with a smile, then took his hand as they got up from the bed. “Now, I think we had better rejoin your co-conspirators so that they can be thanked properly, and then perhaps it will be time to start a fire for supper – I should very much like to put my new kitchen to use. We’ve brought plenty of trout home thanks to your clever idea to send us away fishing this morning, and fresh berries too.”

            “Oh? Do your plans include pie now that you have an oven?” He asked hopefully, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they walked back through the cabin.

            She toed up to kiss his cheek and laughed. “After a gesture of this magnitude, I think I just may owe you a pie.”

* * *

 

**_August 11, 1758_ **

            Cora sat beneath the hawthorn tree and listened to a pair of ravens calling back and forth, perched in trees at the edge of the forest. There were always a few around, and they still brought her odd little gifts sometimes. She could not help but love them, and be reminded of Alice and Uncas whenever a mated pair like this one came around. The day was cooler than usual, heavy grey clouds rolling across the midday sky, and the air was thick with the humidity of a looming rain, as if nature had looked inside her heart and brought this day forth from it. She breathed deeply, smelling the coming rain and the grass beneath her, and let her tears come; for her father, for Alice and Uncas and Duncan, and for everything between then and now. It had been one year. One year of hard and heavy grief for her and Nathaniel and Chingachgook. One year of metamorphosis, of learning and growth. One year of the most intense heartaches and fears she had ever known, combined with the deepest joys she had ever known. She had lost one family and gained another. She had walked away from everything she had ever known to be with a man she loved more every day, a man who had given her more in the past year than she would ever have dreamed possible for herself. They had all seen and experienced things that seemed like the stuff of dreams, that defied explanation and yet had happened, bringing a measure of comfort in their losses that had seemed unobtainable in the beginning.

            One year of pulling their existence from the land, of making a home and watching their first crops come to fruition and ripen. There was a great sense of satisfaction in that success, and relief too, because it meant winter would be easier. Their life had come to fruition along with it, and their grief had shifted and changed too. The breath-stealing waves still came, though they grew fewer and further apart with time. Sometimes they swept in slowly like a tide, the way the approach of this day had been coming the last few weeks, and they had all felt it. Sometimes they came without warning. Something would trigger a memory for one of them – something mundane, innocuous, that one would never expect to hit so hard – and it would nearly drown them. Perhaps for just a few moments. Sometimes for hours or an entire day. It was part of the process, and their mutual understanding of it bound them together. Her hand smoothed over her belly, just barely beginning to change shape beneath her clothing. Now they were truly going to be a family, and that was perhaps the crowning exultation of it all. Sorrow to joy, darkness to light, and death to life. Everything in its time.

            Drying her eyes, she looked up and could see Chingachgook and Nathaniel taking a break from work and heading to the house to eat; now that the cabin was finished, they had dug a root cellar and started building a crib barn. Both men had been subdued this morning and had thrown themselves immediately into working after breakfast, and Cora knew that this day hung as heavy over them as it did over her. Kanshiopán came out of the cabin and met them with words she could not hear from where she sat. Her stomach growled at the thought of the bread she’d baked that morning and the pot of leftover stew she’d set to warm for lunch before coming down here - the baby never let her forget to eat on time - and she rose from her place beneath the hawthorn tree to join the others inside. As she walked across the grass, the grey clouds released their wall of rain, and inside the cabin the heavy drops knocked on the roof and the windows, falling on the world like saltless tears come to wash everything clean again.

            When the day was gone, and the rain with it, the three of them stood together silently on the porch, the dark night settling around them in the cool, damp air. The clouds had all but gone, leaving the moonlit, raven-black sky glinting with dense fields of stars, the Milky Way streaking across them. The Lenape and Mohican believed it was the pathway to Heaven, and looking at it now, Nathaniel wondered if his brother and Alice would walk it one day, if their spirits would tire of staying behind here to watch over them. Cora shivered slightly beside him, and he reached out to drape the blanket she’d wrapped herself in back over her shoulders. He kept his arm around her, to warm her but also to anchor himself with the comfort of her, sighing softly when her arm slid around his waist and she leaned against him. It had been a day that made him feel his heart heavy like iron in his chest, as it had also been for Chingachgook. They had not spoken aloud of it; their muteness as they had worked and then waited out the rainstorm had been louder than words could have been, and there was nothing much to say about it anyway. It was a day to simply get through.

            Breaking the silence at last, Chingachgook began to sing in Mohican, a prayer for those who had gone before them. The words floated from him, curling into the night and up to the stars to travel along the heavenly passage to the ears of their ancestors and the sentient beings who kept watch over the realm of man. He sang of his people, the Turtle Clan, of his wife and his brave son, a great warrior and the last of his line. When he finished, he looked up at the illuminated sky and nodded his head.

            “It has been a day to remember what we have lost,” he said softly. “But it is also a day to be grateful for what we have gained because of it.” He touched Nathaniel and Cora’s shoulders briefly, then went inside where Kanshiopán waited for him.

            Nathaniel wrapped his hand around Cora’s, tugging gently, and she let him lead her off the porch to the open area past the cornfield. There he took the blanket from her shoulders and spread it on the damp grass, and they laid down upon it together. He drew her close and she sighed softly as she settled against him, gazing up at the starry vault above them.

            “It hardly seems like a year since we first lay under these stars together,” she whispered. “It hardly seems a year since any of it happened.”

            “It’s gone by fast, that’s for certain, and we’ve had a fair bit thrown at us.”

            “Such a strange combination of bad things and good things, and so many changes…I can hardly think I’m at all the same person I was then. I don’t feel like it.”

            Nathaniel turned his head and pressed his lips against her hair. “You’ve grown, is all, _ndah_. We all have. You are still like you were then, in the ways that called me to you, but you’re different too, because you’ve been remade by life and new things in this world. I love what you’ve become, and I still see you. No matter how life changes us, I will always see you.”    

            She turned her face up to his and kissed him, slow and tender. The aching clutch of the day fell away to the comfort of it for a moment before they looked back to the night sky and lay quietly curled up together, listening to the low territorial hoot of a great horned owl in the nearby forest. Crickets chirped, and the cool night breeze made a calming rustle through the treetops and the waving cornstalks. The fresh smell of the rain that had fallen lingered on the grass and the wet earth beneath them, mingling with a hint of wood smoke from the wisp coming out of the cabin’s chimney.

            “I miss my father, and I miss Alice. You miss your brother. It will never go away. But I am truly happy here, Nathaniel.” she murmured. “Happier than I ever would have been anywhere else, with anyone else.”

            “It has come at a high price, but my father’s right when he says we’ve gained as much as we’ve lost. I’m happy here, too.” He thought that perhaps the most mystifying thing about all of this was that they _were_ so happy here, and yet there was an undercurrent of guilt and cruel irony to that, because none of the things that brought them joy right now would even be if it had not been for the hell they’d gone through. He wanted what they had because of their losses, but he wanted what had been lost too, and it was impossible to reconcile the two. He could only wish for his brother, and hope that the Camerons would be proud of what they’d done here.

            Cora’s fingertips stroked softly over his face, lovingly tracing his features. “It seems there is always a light shining somewhere in the dark. That is what I thought that night, when we first looked at the stars together, and every time I’ve looked upon them with you since.”

            Nathaniel sighed and held her a little tighter. “You are my shining light.” He spread a hand over her belly and kissed her forehead. “Both of you.”

 

_“We are the stars which sing,_

_We sing with our light;_

_We are the birds of fire,_

_We fly over the sky._

_We look down on the mountains_

_This is the song of the stars.”_

_-Algonquian poem-_

* * *

 

**Author’s Note:**

_nchus_ : "My friend" (woman to woman)

            I promised you good things would start happening. Now Nathaniel, Cora and Chingachgook have a nice cabin that all these guys worked so hard to build, and Kanshiopán is staying around for a while. The cabin part made me smile. Nathaniel was really cute about it, and after all the horrendous crap they’ve been through, he deserved to be adorable and happy and give Cora a big surprise to make her happy, too. And all the friends and family helped him be sneaky, which made it even more fun. I briefly thought about having Máxkwikee and co. stick around with Kanshiopán, but it didn’t seem feasible. I couldn’t justify a young Lenape couple with a child to raise (and probably more children later) just up and leaving their village behind to hang out on the frontier. Culturally, it would be highly unlikely for them to leave her clan and their people, so I couldn’t see that happening – maybe they would visit once a year or something, but I don’t think they’d relocate. Kanshiopán was a little less of a stretch – she is older and doesn’t have as many ties, and it’s more realistic that she might decide to have an extended visit because of her relationship with Chingachgook (so much for that whole “I’m not looking for anything serious” business, you two), though they still haven’t said it’s permanent. She’s really cool, and I wanted to keep her around – I really could not imagine her not being there when Cora gives birth, and it would be next to impossible for her to travel up there in the winter (when Baby Poe is due) because of snow and frozen rivers. Plus, if she had left, Chingachgook would have been mopey and piney and lonely. He told me. ;)

            We also see the result of the Battle of Carillon in this chapter, which is, yes, incredibly fucking depressing. The only good thing about this battle is that Robert Rogers survived it, and that it also resulted in General Abercrombie being recalled to England for being EVEN WORSE than General Webb. He was replaced with Jeffery Amherst, who proceeded to turn the tide of the war in the favor of England, though it was often done in cruel and underhanded ways, so it’s hard to be happy about that, really. That story you always hear in history class about the British general who sent loads of smallpox-infected blankets into enemy forts and thusly killed off vast numbers of Indians? Amherst. Yes. Bastard. I feel like General Howe would have been Abercrombie’s replacement if he’d lived. A shame, that. (I think my version of him had a little crush on Cora). He was an excellent officer, and quite loved by everyone who served under him, and was very widely mourned on both continents when he was killed at Trout Brook. He was buried in Albany, at the same cemetery where I fictitiously laid Colonel Munro (though the real Munro may actually be there, because he did die in Albany of a heart attack in November 1757 – some say his upset over Webb’s refusal to assist him caused it). Lord Viscount George Augustus Howe is, to date, the only British peer to be interred on U.S. soil. There is a grave marker at St. Peter’s church in Albany, NY. Israel Putnam, the ranger who was with him when he died, became a little of a legend in his own right, mostly during the American Revolution. Captain Rogers (who was promoted to Major after the battle of Carillon) was still around then, too.

            Lastly, there is the one-year mark of all the terribly sad things that happened at the end of the film. In a story that is in part about a grief journey, it had to be dealt with. I’ve done this one-year thing more than once in my life, and the first anniversary is always the weirdest and the hardest, because you do have to face how much has changed since the loss. You want to acknowledge it but you don’t want to talk a lot about it, and oh man do you feel that damn day coming like a freight train for weeks before. And every year after that too, though some years are markedly better than others. You do eventually start to see all the good things that came out of the worst thing that ever happened to you. It takes time to see it like that, and it’s never that black and white – there really is a sense of guilt like Nathaniel was feeling, because you’re happy to have the good things, but they’re there because something bad happened and someone was lost, and it’s a fucking wicked trade-off. You earn every happiness after something like that with your blood and tears, just like this family has. I have always been fond of saying “the greenest gardens grow when you throw a lot of shit on them first.” It’s undeniable. Life works the same way; it has seasons. Look at spring after winter. You just can’t let yourself die under the snow, you know? OK, that’s the end of my motivational speech. I had a booger of a time with this section. For one, it’s emotional and touchy. For another, I ended up cutting out an entire part because it just did not fit and felt forced, as much as I initially thought it would work in that scene. MohawkWoman suggested Chingachgook maybe offering a prayer off by himself or something, because part of my difficulty was coming from trying to have them talk too much. I couldn’t see any of them having any kind of drawn out conversation about this day, especially Chingachgook. I took her suggestion and used it as the inspiration for the part where he sang, and I feel like that worked much better than what I was initially trying to do (thank you so much for helping with that, MW). I also feel like that is something he would do. All in all, I feel like it came out the exactly the way I wanted it to – true to each character and true to what those traumatic anniversaries are really like. There is a lot of sadness in this section, but there is a lot of hope too, and a lot of love. And a mated pair of ravens there in the beginning if you caught that…

            Thank you for reading. We are nearing the end of this story, and I’m going to be sad to finish my time with it when it’s done, but excited for the next story (stories?) too.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathaniel and Cora celebrate their first Christmas at their new home after a busy fall. Humor and shenanigans abound, and afterward, something else very exciting happens for them!

**Chapter 19**

_“O’er land and sea, o’er woodland and wave,_

_O’er halls of mirth and o’er the silent grave,_

_O’er noisy city street and white-robed lea_

_Shines forth the Christmas Light triumphantly._

_Into my heart it shines, and bringeth peace –_

_Stilling the conflict, bidding strife to cease,_

_And putting flight to each disturbing care_

_That stealthfully had come and nested there._

_-Lucia W. Eames-_

_December 24, 1758_

            “Cora, you are giving me frayed nerves, darling. Please let me help you.” Eugenie hovered next to Cora in the cabin’s kitchen. Cora was churning butter by the hearth, where it was warm enough for the cream to thicken properly, and Eugenie was in fits over the amount of physical activity that farm life subjected Cora to daily in her delicate condition.

            “Eugenie, I am fine. There is much to do in preparation for tomorrow, and I am used to this. However, if you want to take over, I won’t argue – there is plenty more I can do.” Cora handed the task over to her cousin after showing her how to operate the barrel churn by pushing the paddle plunger up and down in a steady rhythm. She placed her hands at the small of her back and stretched upright, her burgeoning seven-and-a-half-month belly now quite visible beneath her loose-fitting green calico dress.

            She could hardly believe how quickly the last several months had passed. Giles and Eugenie had come to the farm for the first time in mid-August, bringing along their eldest son Philip, who had traveled from London for a visit. Cora had been happy to see him, and to hear the news that he would be married in the spring. Philip had seemed to enjoy the time very much too, fascinated by the beauty of the frontier and getting on pleasantly with Nathaniel and the others, full of questions for them. He fortunately took much more after Eugenie than Giles in personality, and though Cora had not seen him in years, they had gotten on well as children and she was relieved that he had not changed. He had been the one to settle the sale of the Munro house in Portman Square, and before he had turned the property over to the new owner, he had seen the Munros’ most personal things removed from the house; mostly clothing and small belongings, as the furniture had all been sold with it. He had had what he thought would be most valuable to Cora packed into a trunk, and had brought it along to give to her when he made passage to the colonies.

            There were quite a few books, some clothing and other personal items belonging to all three Munros, some of Cora’s mother’s and stepmother’s things, and a small tapestry she and Alice had embroidered together years ago. By far, though, the most precious things of all were the paintings - small likenesses of both Cora and Alice, as well as one of each girl’s mother, and one of Colonel Munro in uniform that had been done the year before he had left for the colonies. Cora was grateful beyond measure to her cousin for his thoughtfulness. She had left that home behind so long ago now that she had not even thought about wanting anything from it, but the portraits were priceless to her, and now she would have something to show their children of their maternal aunt and grandparents. These and the tapestry had been hung in the common room, beside the bookshelf Nathaniel had built for her. In addition, the room now also had several beautiful chairs that Nathaniel and Chingachgook had made from willow branches, one of which was a rocking chair for when the baby arrived. They were quite comfortable with the feather-stuffed cushions she and Kanshiopán had sewn for them.

            Soon enough after that visit, the harvest season had begun, and it seemed they had barely blinked before the golden gown of autumn had passed over the forest and colder weather had come. They had been fortunate to have a plentiful first harvest, with bundles of corn hanging to dry all over the house, and enough other crops to give them a good supply to preserve for winter and to trade with neighboring farms for things they did not grow. Cora’s herb garden had taken off nicely too, and she and Kanshiopán had a handsome store dried for winter for cooking and medicines, and a shelf full of tinctures and oils made from what came from the garden as well as the forest. These were handy for trade as well, and a supply of medicines and several bars of the herb-scented hard soap she and Sarah made in the fall had gone to Abigail Winthrop in trade for apples from their orchard. Winter wheat had been sown after the harvest, and the root cellar was well stocked for winter with gathered nuts, dried beans, vegetables and fruits, potatoes and yams, smoked fish and meat from the men’s fall hunting, and preserves made from fresh berries gathered in summer.

            Nathaniel and Chingachgook had finished the crib barn in September with help from Ian and Alasdair. It now housed a pair of horses in addition to the mules, ox, and cow, plus the two goats Cora had wanted and finally gotten. The basil goat cheese she made from their milk and basil from her garden was quite tasty on toasted bread, and she couldn’t keep Chingachgook away from it any better than she could keep Nathaniel away from a freshly baked pie. The barn also had a chicken coop attached to one side that kept them supplied with eggs. It was well-fortified from the outside to keep predators out – especially foxes, because Nathaniel could no longer bring himself to purposely shoot one, and no one in the house faulted him for it. With winter came trapping season too, and while Nathaniel and Chingachgook would not put the full-time effort of the past into it, furs were still valuable income. They set trap lines within a reasonable travel radius, able to leave Cora for short periods since Kanshiopán was there to stay with her. Nathaniel venturing out in the winter still made Cora as nervous as leaving her alone made him, but life had to go on despite it.

            And now, here it was, Christmas Eve already, snow on the ground and winter in full swing. Giles and Eugenie had come by sleigh just a little while ago, bringing Mr. Phelps along with them, and the cabin was busy in preparation for the large Christmas dinner they would be hosting the following day. Nathaniel had taken Alasdair out turkey hunting with him early that morning, while Cora and Kanshiopán had spent the day seeing to what food preparation they could ahead of time. Chingachgook was outside helping Giles and Mr. Phelps unload the sleigh. Cora smiled to herself as she began gathering ingredients for apple pie, thinking that Nathaniel had been right when he’d said coming to Albany might be good for Giles and Eugenie. Her cousin seemed less and less daunted by frontier life with each visit, sometimes even seemed to enjoy certain things, and even Giles seemed, if possible, less foul-tempered and more forgiving of differences. Whatever peace he and Nathaniel had made between them in June had yielded a somewhat strained and highly entertaining relationship based heavily on sarcasm and good-natured insults, and he even occasionally engaged Chingachgook in light conversation now.

            “Ah, I see Cora has put you to work already!” Kanshiopán said, smiling at Eugenie as she came through the door carrying a basket of apples from the root cellar.

            “It is my own fault, I didn’t want her straining herself. My goodness, this is not as easy as it looks!” Eugenie puffed, her face flushed from the physical effort.

            “It ought to be ready soon,” Cora replied. “Let me finish - ”

            “Ah-ah. I will finish it. Eugenie is right, you should not strain yourself quite so much.” Kanshiopán took over the churn and sent Eugenie over to help Cora slice apples. The men came in on a burst of cold air from outside, bearing gifts Eugenie and Giles had brought along from Albany; wheat flour, fabric, and to Cora’s delight, tea and coffee, which were a luxury she no longer indulged in for the sake of frugality. She happily set a pot of water to boil for coffee, thankful that her aversion to it seemed to have subsided along with her morning sickness.

            Cora had just taken the first pie out of the oven and put a second in when Nathaniel and Alasdair returned, their snowshoes clattering on the plank porch as they removed them to come inside, faces reddened from being out in the cold all day.

            “You’re back!” Cora smiled brightly as Nathaniel came to kiss her, his skin icy against hers, melted snowflakes beading on the beaver-pelt coat he wore.

            “It smells wonderful in here. Apple pie?” He breathed deeply and grinned.

            “Yes, and you stay away from it. It’s for tomorrow.” She gave him another quick kiss. “How did you fare hunting?”

            “It was a long day, but we had good luck. Two fine, fat tom turkeys, and Alasdair got himself a doe on the way back as well.”

            “That I did, but likely only because Nathaniel permitted me to use Killdeer to take her down. I can only hope to ever own a rifle so fine!” Alasdair grinned, his brown eyes twinkling with delight.

            “A fine rifle will only get you so far, you must have the skill to go behind it, which you do.” Cora said. “How is your shoulder feeling?”

            “It’s well enough. Stiff today, it doesn’t like the cold one bit, but I’m able to do my fair share again, so I can’t complain.”

            Nathaniel said hello to Eugenie, and Giles wandered over to offer his hand in greeting as well.

             “Mr. Poe, I trust you are well.” he said gruffly.

            “That I am, Giles. Just putting the unholy firearm to good use so we can feed our guests tomorrow.” Nathaniel grinned wickedly.

            “Ah, well, then, there’s another advantage to having you in the family, at least.” Giles smirked, and Nathaniel laughed, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

            After they had warmed up a bit and had something to eat, Nathaniel and Alasdair went back outside with Chingachgook to attend the doe and turkeys, and when that was done, Alasdair made his way home, taking his musket and a portion of the venison with him. Cora and Kanshiopán undertook plucking the birds, saving the feathers for lining warm clothing and preparing them to be roasted in the morning for dinner. Eugenie had no stomach for this, so instead she helped prepare supper with some direction from Cora, while Mr. Phelps enlisted Giles to help him bring in more firewood from the pile on the porch.

            By the time they went to bed, Cora was thoroughly exhausted, and her lower back, legs and feet ached deeply. She changed into a flannel nightdress and eased into bed with a deep sigh.

            “My God, it feels so good to lie down,” she groaned. Nathaniel got in beside her, drawing the warm fur-lined blanket over them both to ward off the cold air in the bedroom.

            “It was a busy day. I’m glad you had some help, but you still try to do too much, _aholkwësit_.” He pulled her as close to him as the swell of her belly would allow, and she closed her eyes in relieved pleasure as his strong fingers massaged the overtaxed muscles in the small of her back.

            “Mmmmm. It’s worth it for this sort of attention at the end of the day.” She smiled and snuggled closer. After a while he eased off, his hand rubbing gently up and down her back. Her fingertips grazed along his arm and down his ribs, finding and tracing the raised length of still-pink scar tissue along his side where the Frenchman’s musket ball had left its mark. He gazed at her in the dancing glow of the candlelight, her eyes soft and thoughtful as she reached up and touched his cheek.

            “What are you thinking about, hmmm?” he murmured, his fingers tangling in the silky thickness of her hair.

            “Just…last year, you were so ill and feverish, and I didn’t even remember that it was Christmas, because all I cared for was to see you through to the next day. Now we are here…in our home, with everyone we love, and we will have a baby in two months’ time. And though I am tired from all the effort, I am so grateful that this year I am able to have a real Christmas with you - and with this motley family of ours - one that would have pleased Alice beyond measure if she were here to celebrate with us. She did so love Christmas.”

            “I’m glad too, _ndah_. Uncas and I didn’t grow up celebrating Christian holidays, of course, but our people do love to celebrate happy events among family and friends, and I think he would have felt the same. Tomorrow will be a good day.” He nuzzled her neck and kissed beneath her ear. “Mmmm. You still smell like apple pie here.”

            She laughed softly and wrapped her arms around him. “Oh, Nathaniel. I love you so.” Her lips brushed across his, the sweet contact making them both ache for more.

            “ _Ktahwáanun_ ,” he whispered, kissing her back. “ _Ktaholël_.” Their mouths met once more, soft at first, then more insistent, her lips parting to admit the delicate caress of his tongue against hers. His hand pressed into the small of her back as he deepened the kiss further, loving her and savoring the love she gave him in return, the warmth of her round belly curving into his.

            _Thump._ Nathaniel’s eyes flew open in surprise at the feel of a swift, soft jab to his abdomen. A gentle, rolling pressure came next, followed by another little thump. Cora giggled, and Nathaniel began to laugh outright as he sat up beside her, his hand stealing beneath her nightdress to lie against her skin, where he could still feel the baby kicking and turning.

            “Oof. This child certainly wants to make its presence known at odd times. I suspect this is only the beginning,” Cora said breathlessly, rolling onto her back to make herself more comfortable and settle the baby. It was not a particularly pleasant feeling, especially now that she was getting so far along and the kicks and movements grew stronger by the week. Still, there was something incomparably amazing about feeling life moving inside her that made her not mind, even when it caused her pain; and almost as much, she loved watching Nathaniel’s awestruck face whenever he felt it too.

            His palm still resting on her, Nathaniel leaned down and pressed his cheek to her belly. “It is time for us to let your mama go to sleep, _n’nitschaan_.” His voice rumbled softly over her skin. He placed a gentle kiss there as the movements diminished, then blew out the candle and settled back beside Cora, who succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep against his shoulder in short order.

* * *

 

            “I daresay, this has been as fine a Christmas as I can remember for many a year.” Mr. Phelps said, settling back into one of the willow chairs in the common room.

            “That it has, Owen,” Jack Winthrop replied, sitting down next to him and taking out his pipe. The men had been banished from the kitchen to mind the children while the women dealt with the aftermath of a very lovely and successful first Christmas dinner at the Poes’ home.

            “Cora, please go sit down and rest yourself, there are plenty of us to help tidy up.” Abigail Winthrop entreated, shooing Cora into the company of their Christmas guests. She sat down beside Nathaniel on one of the long table benches and settled beneath his waiting arm, stretching her legs out in front of her. It had been a wonderful day spent with their family, and all the MacKays and Winthrops had come as well, bringing food, good company, and Christmas cheer. Nathaniel and Chingachgook had some experience with the European celebration of Christmas, having spent time among their friends on the frontier on a few occasions, but it was new to Kanshiopán, who was familiar enough with Christianity but had never experienced the holiday directly. Regardless, they all shared a common desire to come together to celebrate kinship and a successful harvest, and this made it a grand time for all of them.

            Giles produced a bottle of fine Scottish whisky he had brought along for the occasion, met with resounding approval from the room full of Scots. Chingachgook politely declined, as did Nathaniel, but they did join in giving thanks for everything good that had come out of the year, and when the others raised their glasses in somber salute to those absent and missed. Nathaniel’s arm tightened around Cora, who gazed wistfully at the portraits of her parents and Alice on the wall. Afterward, Ian held Aileen on his lap while Maggie and Aidan, along with Jeremiah and Ruth Winthrop, gathered around Chingachgook and asked him to tell them the story of the red-headed woodpecker and the sugar maple trees. He indulged them happily with a twinkle in his dark eyes, the snake tattoo above his brow undulating in the lamplight as his facial expressions changed with the story’s events. Even Giles sat and listened; Chingachgook was an enthralling storyteller. Cora and Nathaniel watched, both smiling.

            “Soon enough he’ll have his grandchild joining that brood,” Nathaniel murmured, squeezing Cora’s shoulder.

            “Where on earth did Alasdair get off to?” Sarah wondered aloud behind them. “I sent him out for more firewood near fifteen minutes ago!”

            Cora’s eyes slid to Nathaniel’s, and she covertly mouthed _“where is Rebekah?”_ Nathaniel’s eyes widened a little, his lips quirking in a crooked half-grin. They had spent a portion of Christmas dinner silently communicating their mutual amusement at the lovesick stares traveling across the table between Alasdair and the eldest Winthrop girl. Noting her conspicuous absence, Nathaniel stood up.

            “I’ll go see what’s holding him up, Sarah. The pile on the porch was done, so he’d have had to go down to the barn – perhaps he can use some…help.”

            Cora tried mightily to hide her silent laughter behind her hand as he put on his coat to go into the frigid night in search of wayward teenagers. He followed Alasdair’s footprints in the snow, smiling wryly when he saw a second, smaller set of footprints joined up with the first. On approaching the barn, he heard rustling sounds behind the far wall, and then a soft gasp.

            “Sssshhhh! Did you hear that?” Rebekah’s voice hissed.

            “It was nothing, don’t worry…” Alasdair whispered, followed by a few seconds of quiet scuffling and sighing.

            Nathaniel stepped around the corner of the wall to find them locked in a passionate embrace, and cleared his throat. Rebekah yelped in fright and the two culprits sprang apart, Alasdair nearly falling backward in the snow. Both looked entirely as guilty as they were. Alasdair’s hat was sitting rather cockeyed, and Rebekah was blushing deep red in the bright moonlight as she smoothed her golden hair, locks of it now hanging in wild disarray around her pretty face.

            “Damn it, Alasdair, a bear could’ve snuck up on you and you’d never have noticed. You’re lucky it’s me who came to fetch you and not Jack, or Killdeer ain’t the rifle you’d need to be concerned about.” Nathaniel crossed his arms over his chest and tried as hard as he could to look stern.

            “Oh God, Nathaniel, please don’t tell Papa! He and Mama will never let me near Alasdair again!” Rebekah pleaded, her china-blue eyes filling with tears.

            “I’m not saying a word,” Nathaniel said, giving up on the stern act and laughing out loud in amusement. “But you two had better be more careful in the future. Now Rebekah, you get on back up to the house before your mother gets wise. Alasdair, you and I are hauling firewood a good way behind her.” Rebekah walked meekly back to the cabin, fixing her hair as she went. Alasdair watched her retreat for a moment before turning to join Nathaniel tossing split firewood into the wheelbarrow.

            “Sorry. She followed me out, and…well…” he shrugged and grinned sheepishly.

            Nathaniel sighed. “I was your age once. Hell, the only difference between me and you now is I’m married to Cora, and her father isn’t here to shoot me.” He chuckled, pushing the loaded wheelbarrow back to the house with Alasdair following beside him.

            Much later, Cora stood on the porch with Nathaniel bundled in her warm cloak, the house peaceful inside with its sleeping occupants. Her face was pressed into the shoulder of his beaver coat in an attempt to stifle the peals and snorts of her laughter after he told her what had happened with Alasdair and Rebekah.

            “I knew it!” she gasped, wiping tears from her face. “I saw this coming ages ago, you remember how she was after he was shot.” He did; the poor girl had been completely overwrought and had begged Abigail to come along when she came to visit the MacKays while Alasdair was recovering. She’d spent the entire visit glued to his side and fawning sweetly over him, and he had thoroughly enjoyed every second of it.

            “Ah, well, I can’t entirely blame him for taking a good opportunity, as long as Jack doesn’t catch them at it. I’ve been known to take such opportunities myself.” He grinned down at her. “Though I don’t recall having kissed you behind the barn…yet.”

            “You’ll have to remain disappointed for now, I’m afraid. I am not in any condition to waddle down there in the snow in the middle of the night.”

            Nathaniel laughed and wrapped his arms around her beneath her cloak. “You do not waddle. And don’t worry about my disappointment, you’re my wife. I can kiss you wherever I please.” He bent his head and did just that, and once he had thoroughly stolen her breath, she leaned against him, staring out at the moonlight transforming the snowy landscape of the farm and forest into a winter fairyland. Mr. Phelps was right; this was most definitely the finest Christmas she could remember in a long time.

 

* * *

 

_February 16, 1759_

            “Sarah, help me with these snowshoes, please? I cannot bend over to get them on anymore.” Cora straightened, taking shallow breaths, which was all she could manage these days with the baby taking up most of her available breathing and moving space. Not to mention the swollen feet and ankles that made her infinitely grateful for the comfort of moccasins and leggings.

            “Are you sure this is a sound idea?” Sarah asked doubtfully, assisting Cora with her snowshoes before donning her own. “I am sure Kanshiopán and I can manage by ourselves.”

            “Perhaps Sarah is right, Cora. You ought not tax yourself so, not with you so close to your time.” The older woman chided, clucking her tongue in concern over Cora’s stubborn resolve to come along.

            “I will be all right. I have you with me, and it isn’t that far to go.” Cora adjusted her cloak as best she could around her protruding belly and put her mittens on, and the three of them stepped off the cabin porch and headed toward the forest, Sarah pulling a flat-bottomed wooden sled loaded with empty buckets to exchange for full ones. The sugar maple sap had begun to rise, and it was the first sugaring season Cora had spent here. Sarah had come today to help gather the buckets from the very first tapping, and silly as it seemed, Cora did not want to miss out, having loved this time when they had lived in the Delaware village last winter. She had been cooped up at home for weeks now trying to heed Kanshiopán’s advice to rest and accept more help, growing larger and more uncomfortable by the day. She was stir-crazy and itching to get out for any reason, especially since Nathaniel and Chingachgook had gone out to check trap lines two days ago, and it was too quiet without them.

            When they reached the stand of maple trees, Cora obeyed Kanshiopán’s orders and refrained from trying to move the heavy buckets from the trees to the sled. She stood and rested instead, wincing with a twinge of cramping pain that took her breath away momentarily. She had had these more and more often the last month or two, and they were strong today. She had feared them at first, worried that the baby was coming early, but Kanshiopán had said it was just her body’s way of preparing her for the much stronger contractions that would come with the birth of the babe. She breathed through the discomfort and paced a little to ease it. Once the sled was loaded and the new collection buckets placed, Kanshiopán left a small offering of food and tobacco for the _manetu_ , and the three of them traipsed back to the farm, moving slowly to accommodate Cora.

            “Are you faring all right, my girl?” Sarah asked as Cora paused with a hand to her belly, breathing rapidly.

            “Yes,” Cora gasped. “I think so, but…these pains are worse than usual, and they are lasting longer and coming more frequently. Do you think…?”

            “How frequent are they?” Kanshiopán asked.

            “Perhaps every ten or so minutes, it seems like. It wasn’t so bad early this morning, but now they are quite uncomfortable.”

            Kanshiopán and Sarah both nodded decisively. “Well, then. We had best get you back home, _nichan_. It would seem that your child is preparing to make its way into the world.”

            “That is what I feared,” Cora moaned. “Oh, God, the baby cannot come yet, Nathaniel isn’t here!”

            Kanshiopán chuckled in sympathetic humor. “Do not worry, Ahasxkwe. It will not happen so fast, and Hawkeye and Chingachgook should be back very soon.” She took Cora’s arm and held it as they walked on, pausing for another contraction before they reached the farm. As they approached the cabin, Cora stopped suddenly, feeling something wet begin to trickle down her legs into the snow.

            “Oh, bloody hell,” she muttered, lifting her skirts a little to assess.

            “What is it?” Sarah rushed over.

            “It would appear that my waters have broken.”

            “Let us go inside, then. It should still be some time yet, but we have preparations to make before things progress further.” Kanshiopán guided her to the porch and helped her get the snowshoes off, then took her inside the cabin to the bedroom to prepare the space for the birth. Sarah brought the buckets of maple sap into the kitchen, then set water to boil for herbs. Kanshiopán emerged after settling Cora and set about making a tea of black cohosh, trillium, and chamomile to help relieve the pains.

            “She is well for now, then?” Sarah asked, handing the _nentpike_ the various herbs she asked for from the wooden chest where they were kept.

            “She is. The pain is not so bad for her yet and she knows what is to come, but she is anxious and wanting Hawkeye to be home, and there is not much I can do to help that except keep her company until he arrives. We expected them back today, so it will be soon enough.”

            “I’ll need to go home to fetch a few things, and to let Ian and the children know that I’ll be here with you until she’s delivered of the baby,” Sarah said. “I’ll be back in about two hours’ time, I trust you’ll manage just fine without me?”

            “Yes. There are likely many hours to wait yet. Travel safely, my friend.”

            Sarah bundled herself back up and trudged through the snow to the barn for the horse she’d ridden from home that morning, and before long she was headed south as quickly as her mount could go. In the silence that followed her departure, the bright red streak of a fox dashed across the snowy expanse between the edge of the forest and the cabin, followed above by a low-flying raven, stark and inky black against the backdrop of white. The fox settled itself on the stoop of the cabin’s porch, his tail curling around his paws. He flashed a sharp-toothed grin as the raven lighted on the porch’s wooden railing just above him, cocking her head as she made a knocking sound in her throat and peered at him with one shiny ebony eye.

_“Remember your birth,_

_how your mother struggled_

_to give you form and breath._

_You are evidence of her life,_

_and her mother’s,_

_and hers._

_Remember your father,_

_His hands cradling your mother’s flesh,_

_and maybe her heart, too..._

_He is your life also.”_

_-Joy Harjo, Creek-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note:  
> Ktaholël: “I love you” (Lenape)  
> N’nitschaan: “My child” (Mohican)  
> Nichan: “My child/daughter/niece” (Lenape)
> 
> This chapter made me warm and fuzzy. A successful harvest leading to a good winter, and no more adverse events over the course of what sounds like a very busy but very rewarding fall, complete with a visit from Cousin Philip, who sounds a sight more pleasant than his dad (though Giles seems to be coming around a little, doesn’t he?). I think this chapter had more laughable moments for these people than any other so far, and I’m so glad. The previous Christmas was Nathaniel and Cora’s first together, and it was kind of awful because he was so sick. This one is infinitely better! There are family and friends, humor, cheer, and even butter-churning! This is a colonial-era story, you guys, SOMEONE was going to churn butter at some point. A fun tidbit about that – if you tried to churn butter and the temperature was too cold, the cream wouldn’t turn (hence all those superstitions about butter witches back then, because they had no clue about the science of temperatures). Some women figured out that churning in a place that was warm (or warming the cream) gave them the best luck, so Cora does her winter butter-churning in the kitchen where there’s a warm fire. By the way, can I just say, I love that Cora makes basil goat cheese and that Chingachgook steals it. It’s as cute as Nathaniel’s pie addiction (and the fact that he can’t bring himself to shoot a fox), maybe even cuter. I love Chingachgook. I wonder what Nathaniel would do if she made lavender-maple goat cheese?  
> In addition, Nathaniel and Cora got a little taste of what life with a little one is going to be like. Try to make out with your wife and – “Hey! Not so fast, buddy! Get your paws off my mommy!” If they think it’s funny now, just wait till that kid is born. They’ll be too tired to care anyway, trust me. But I’m sure Grandpa will babysit later, since he pestered Uncas and Nathaniel for grandchildren all those years, right? Humor aside, if you’ve never been pregnant, I can tell you that babies really do that kind of stuff in utero, and it can be really funny. My daughter rolled and thumped like that all the time, and I remember doing belly henna on a friend when she was eight months pregnant, and her son’s feet followed my hand the whole time and kept kicking it and messing up the henna design. It’s kind of amazing, really, and the most alien and yet miraculous feeling in the world. I also told you before that I had plans for Alasdair MacKay (and apparently also for Jack’s daughter Rebekah). That whole making-out-behind-the-barn bit made me laugh, and I had fun writing it. They really are lucky Nathaniel caught them and not Jack, because Nathaniel was way cooler about it than Jack or even Ian would have been, since neither of them is his kid (wait till you’re a dad, Nathaniel). Jack would have throttled Alasdair; Nathaniel, not so much. He’s like, “Yeah dude…don’t uh…oh, who am I kidding, I’m just as bad. High five. Don’t get caught.”  
> And finally, Cora takes a nice walk in the snow without realizing she was going into labor, and I’m sure the walk only helped that progress. Lots of first time moms don’t realize they’re going into labor right away. The first stage of labor is often mild and not much different than the Braxton-Hicks contractions (the body’s “practice” contractions I mentioned) that women have pretty often in their third trimester, so Cora probably really would have written it off. And OF COURSE, she goes into labor when Nathaniel is off running trap lines with his dad, because there had to be something to leave you guys hanging with. But Kanshiopán is there, and Sarah will be back, and Uncas-Fox and Alice-Raven are helping hold down the fort too.  
> Thank you for reading once again, and stay tuned for the next chapter, when the world will get to meet Baby Poe. Will it be a boy or a girl? Dark hair? What color eyes? What will they name him/her? What do you think? We shall see!


	20. Chapter 20 & Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby Poe comes into the world, Nathaniel and Cora adjust to being parents, and the story concludes with a peek at the future for our family.

**Chapter 20**

_“How we rise when we’re born_

_like ravens in the corn_

_on their wings, on our knees_

_crawling careless from the sea.”_

_-Samuel Ervin Beam-_  

            The afternoon was growing dusky by the time Nathaniel and Chingachgook neared home, and it had begun to snow lightly. They had been a little longer than anticipated on their trap run due to an exceptionally good take this time around, and they were traveling a little slower with the load. Nathaniel picked up his pace a little as the farm came into view, eager to get home and make sure all was well. Cora was very close to her time, and he had not liked leaving her, but neither could Chingachgook manage alone. It had only been two days, but in his experience a great deal could happen in two days, and ridiculous though it might be, he had simply missed his wife. When they arrived, they took the mule to the barn to relieve it of its load and get it fed and settled.

            “One of Ian’s horses is here,” Chingachgook said, nodding toward the roan gelding stabled with their bay mare and chestnut gelding.

            “Maybe Sarah,” Nathaniel replied. “She’d have come to help, though it’s late in the day for her to be here still.”

            “Perhaps you should - ”

            Chingachgook had no sooner begun his suggestion than they heard Sarah calling outside. Nathaniel jogged out and met her coming down from the cabin, her feet kicking up snow with her hurried steps as she clutched her shawl around her in the cold.

            “Nathaniel! You’re here! Thank goodness!”

            His stomach dropped to his feet. “What’s wrong?! Is Cora - ”

            “Aye, she’s fine, or as fine as she can be. The bairn is on its way. Her pains started this morning, and there is time to wait yet, but she’s plenty fashed for wanting you here. Come.”

            His pulse pounded and his hands began to tremble. He turned back to the barn, but Chingachgook was already standing behind him with a small smile on his face.

            “Go with Sarah, my son. I will finish here and be along.”

            Nathaniel strode quickly up the slope with Sarah keeping up beside him. When they reached the house, he removed his warm outer layers and washed away the grime of the trap run and two days’ travel over the washtub in the kitchen.

            “Ah, Hawkeye, you have returned!” Kanshiopán exclaimed, bustling into the room while he was drying his hands. He went to her in a rush, feeling urgent, excited, and utterly terrified at the same time.

            “How is she, _ànati_?”

            “She will be better now that you are here. Her pains grow worse, but that is to be expected. All else appears to be well and ordinary, which we can be thankful for.”

            “May I…may I see her?” Nathaniel asked nervously. He expected the _nentpike_ to refuse. Childbirth was considered a powerful time that could cause disruption in the outside world and was not something men had any involvement in among the Delaware or the Mohican; typically, the laboring mother was completely separated from the village and either gave birth alone, or with other women to assist. He knew this as a son of the Mohican, but there was also the part of him that resided here, where there was no village and nowhere to separate from it, and sometimes doing things differently could not be helped. He felt especially torn now, because part of him knew what was expected of him, and part of him just loved his wife and longed to go to her for at least a short while to comfort her – and himself, if he was being honest.

            Kanshiopán sighed and looked hard at him. “I should not allow it. At home I would not. But this is not my home, and the lack of separation here cannot be helped. She is your wife – you have married into her clan, and you now live between her world and that of your people. Among hers, these things are not done the same. She will remain anxious until she sees you for herself, and that will not be good for her or the child. Go on – but you cannot stay too long.”

            Nathaniel thanked her and left the two women to go to the bedroom. He knocked softly and opened the door to find Cora standing in a nightdress at the foot of the bedstead, leaning forward with her hands braced on the footboard.

            “Oh, Nathaniel, thank God,” she gasped in relief as she stood up straight. He went to her, all his own anxiety melting away for the moment, and she leaned into his waiting arms with a soft sob.

            “ _Ntàpi, aholkwësit._ I am sorry it took so long to get home to you.” He kissed her hair and rubbed his hands up and down her back.

            “I’m so glad you are here, _mo chridhe_ ,” she sniffled. “I didn’t want this to happen while you were gone, but it did, and then it was starting to snow so I worried more. I just wanted you here with me because I missed you, and I know that what is happening is all to be expected, but it _hurts_.”

            “What can I do?” he asked softly, holding her close.

            “Just stay with me for a little while, please.” She wrapped her arms tighter around him and began to sway from side to side, her cheek resting against his chest.

            “What are we doing?” He smiled a little and moved with her.

            “The movement helps when the pains come, and it helps between them too.” She began to breathe hard and deep, and he could feel her entire belly growing rock-hard between them with the force of the contraction. She moaned with the pain of it, her hands gripping his shirt tightly. He continued to sway with her and gently massaged her lower back until it seemed to subside. He knew this would get worse, and that it was worse for some women than others. There was little he could do for her other than what he was already doing, and it seemed to make her feel better, so he held her and moved with her, rubbing her back and murmuring gently to her through each wave. What her body was doing made him feel both amazed and frightened, having never dealt with childbirth directly before. Eventually Kanshiopán came back in with Sarah, bearing a cup of motherwort-chamomile tea to help with relaxation.  

            “Your father will wait with you, Hawkeye. It is time to leave her to us.”

            He nodded, leaning his forehead against Cora’s for a moment and laying a hand on her belly.

            “ _Ktahwáanun_. I will not be far away, and I will see you both when it is time.” He kissed her and helped her sit down on the edge of the mattress so she could take her tea, then retreated to sit with Chingachgook for the long night ahead.

 

* * *

 

            At some point after Sarah had come to tell Nathaniel that Cora was resting while she still could and that he and Chingachgook should too, they had both fallen asleep in the willow chairs in the common room. Nathaniel slept lightly and fitfully, waking in a panic every time he heard the slightest sound. Sometime long into the night, both men woke when the moans and cries of pain drifting from the bedroom grew more intense and much closer together than before. Nathaniel’s heart hammered erratically in his chest, and he grew more unnerved with each one. He stood and began to pace the room, feeling helpless, wanting only to stop Cora’s hurting but knowing he could not. His head shot up when Kanshiopán came out, and he went to her with Chingachgook behind him, his eyes desperate and questioning.

            “It will not be too long now,” she said. A lengthy moan came from behind the door accompanied by Sarah’s soft voice, and Nathaniel buckled a little.

            “Cora and the baby, are they…?”

            “Both fine. The pain is to be expected, and it will grow worse as the child is closer to birth.” She patted his cheek sympathetically. “Hawkeye, do not fear. She is strong and brave, and you know this because it is why you love her. It will pass.” She shot Chingachgook a silent, instructive look and went to the kitchen to prepare more herbs to help ease the impending birth.

            The next agonized cry nearly undid Nathaniel. He collapsed into one of the chairs, head between his knees, and raked his hands through his hair.

            “Damn it, I hate this,” he muttered miserably.

            “It does you no good to stay here and feel helpless. Come.” Chingachgook handed him his coat and pushed him gently toward the door and out onto the cabin porch. They sat down together on the wooden stoop, and Chingachgook sighed deeply.

            “Where is Giles with his whisky now, eh?” he said with a chuckle.

            “I wondered the same thing myself,” Nathaniel replied with a wry smile.

            “It is no wonder women separate themselves from men for the birth of children. When your brother was born, your mother was with the women, and though I was too far away to know her pain as you know Cora’s now, I too felt great anxiety. It is the same for any father who loves his wife and child. Women are more powerful than us in many ways, and this is one. They can do hard and holy things that men cannot fathom. You will see that now, and you will see it once the child is born, too. She will do what must be done at all costs, and she will push forward long after you think she would be justified in giving up. You have seen this in her all along, and so have I. She is very like your mother was.”

            Nathaniel nodded. “Part of me wishes I could be ignorant of this, Father. But part of me is a little grateful that if I can’t feel her pain myself or take it from her, at least I am here to know of it and suffer with her in my mind. But God, I want to go to her when I hear it.”

            “I understand. But she is well off with Kanshiopán and Sarah, and you know that she is. It will not help her pain and anxiety to have yours there as well.”

            The two men sat in silence together, Nathaniel trying to calm his nerves. They stayed on the porch until the cold made them seek the warmth of the house once again, taking wood from the pile to tend the fire in the kitchen hearth. In the shadows below, the fox poked his head up over the porch and watched them go.

            Dawn came, and the sun began to rise behind the remnants of yesterday’s snow clouds, streaking the eastern horizon with a glory of colors. With its rising, a tiny life was ushered into the world, heralded by the cawing of a pair of ravens on the cabin roof while the insistent sound of newborn cries and the joyful tears of a newly-made mother filled the cabin. Once this welcome chaos settled into a hush, and the work that comes after birth was done, Kanshiopán and Sarah emerged from the bedroom to summon Nathaniel, who at this point was both exhausted and ready to knock down the door.

            “You have a bonnie wee daughter, Nathaniel, hale and sound, and Cora has done very well.” Sarah told him with a tired and triumphant smile.

            “May I see them now?” He exhaled deeply, his relief and joy rising in a wave that crested in his chest and brought a rush of tears to his eyes.

            Kanshiopán smiled and nodded. “Yes. Go to your family, Hawkeye.”

            Nathaniel needed no further prompting. He went quietly to Cora, who was now propped up in bed resting against the pillows behind her. She looked thoroughly drained and a little pale, an impossibly tiny bundle swaddled in her arms.

            “Come and meet our daughter, _mo chridhe_.” She smiled beatifically, her eyes red-rimmed and weary but happy. He sat down on the mattress beside her, leaning in to kiss her softly and get a look at their baby girl, who was currently sleeping after her eventful debut. Cora gently placed her in his arms and he cradled her against his chest, one finger delicately stroking her round, ruddy little face, the button nose and chin, rosebud lips, and the shock of silky, nearly-black hair sticking up all over her head. One small hand escaped, and she instinctively grasped his finger tight in her tiny fist. Kanshiopán had tied soft buckskin strips around her wrists in the traditional effort to remind any spirits who might try to persuade her from the world in this early phase of life that she belonged to the earth and must stay here with her family.

            “She’s perfect,” he whispered, tears dropping onto the swaddling as he gazed in wonder at her, and then at Cora. _We made this_.

            “She is. I can hardly stop looking at her,” Cora replied, leaning her head against his shoulder. The baby came awake then, and stared calculatingly at her mesmerized father with eyes that seemed almost too big for her diminutive face. For now, they were a deep slate-blue, as most newborn babies’ eyes are; time would tell what color they would end up.

            “Hello, _ntan’tis_ ,” he murmured, smiling down at her. Cora looked on with quiet satisfaction, hurting and utterly spent, but completely enraptured at the same time.

            “What shall we call her, then?” she asked. Nathaniel’s people did not name their children until the age of three, so she would not get a Mohican or Lenape name until then, but Cora had wanted a name that reflected her heritage as well, so they had agreed on a short list of Scottish and English names that they had both liked.

            Nathaniel met her eyes. “I like Eleanor best, don’t you?” They had chosen it because it meant ‘shining light.’

            “Yes, it suits her perfectly. And for her middle name…what about Aileas?”

            “Ay-lish…” he repeated softly. The Scots Gaelic form of Alice. “Yes, I think so.” Among Nathaniel’s people, when a person died, their name died as well, and was never used again. They had concluded that an alternate form of her sister’s name was removed enough to honor her memory and yet still be appropriate. “Well then, Eleanor Aileas Poe, what do you think?” She squirmed a little and turned her tiny head toward him, her mouth opening like a baby bird’s as she made tiny little squeaking sounds, as if searching for something.

            “I think she has had enough of this naming business, and would like to be fed.” Cora smiled as Nathaniel transferred their daughter back into her waiting arms. Kanshiopán came in with food and water for Cora and helped her get the baby latched to her breast, sending Nathaniel to the kitchen to eat with Chingachgook and Sarah. When Eleanor was done nursing, and had gone back to sleep, Nathaniel brought her to her delighted grandfather for a short visit while Kanshiopán and Sarah attended Cora with more herbal offerings and various post-birth ministrations. When he came back to her a short while later, he stretched out beside her on the bed, keeping Eleanor with him so that Cora could rest until she needed to nurse again.

            “I am so proud of you, _ndah_ ,” he whispered as she settled with her head on his shoulder. She did not answer; she had already fallen into exhausted slumber. When Sarah had gone home to see to her own family and rest, Chingachgook and Kanshiopán peeked into the room to check on them before lying down themselves, and found all of them asleep. Cora was curled against Nathaniel, who lay propped beside her with Eleanor cuddled on his chest supported by his arm and one large hand, her downy dark head resting over his heart.

 

* * *

  

            The next several weeks passed in a blur of sleep deprivation and all the constant demands of a new baby. Kanshiopán insisted on Cora taking a proper lying-in period to recover, though it would not last the standard month or more because they lacked a village full of women to help. Sarah came when she could, often bringing Maggie along, who was quite the little assistant, and Abigail Winthrop had come with Rebekah and Ruth for a few days to help as well. In the past Cora would have thought weeks of lying-in would drive her insane with boredom. Now she knew better and could not imagine taking back the yoke of her normal duties in addition to healing from birth, nursing Eleanor what felt like round the clock most days, changing her soiled clout and pilcher nearly as often, and trying to rest to make up for her lack of sleep while others minded Eleanor so that she could. If she had to worry about household work as well, it would have overwhelmed her to tears. Sometimes she felt that way without additional responsibilities because the exhaustion and all the changes made her more emotional. All the other women had assured her this was quite normal, and she was extremely grateful for having all of them to help keep her head above water.

            Her favorite constant in all of it was the joy and light Eleanor brought into their home. Chingachgook was completely enamored with her and doted on her endlessly whenever he was given a chance. Kanshiopán often took her while Cora rested, carrying her around on a cradleboard on her back while she cooked or worked, singing Lenape songs to her. Between the two of them, Eleanor would be fluent in both Mohican and Delaware by the time she could speak. Cora was utterly in love with her, and the time of her lying-in not spent resting or nursing was spent holding her daughter and marveling at her tiny, perfect features and her adorable fluff of dark hair, just the color of hers and Nathaniel’s. It was early to tell for certain yet, but her eyes were beginning to lighten from the newborn slate color, and it seemed she would have her father’s green eyes, or some varying shade of blue. Best of all, Cora loved watching Nathaniel with her. He was a loving and devoted father as equally as he was the same kind of husband, and she wondered if it was possible to die of love each time she heard him carrying on a one-sided conversation with the tiny bundle in his arms, or found him asleep either beside her in bed or in the willow rocking chair he’d built, with Eleanor contentedly snoozing away on his warm chest.

            “Why on earth are there holes in her moccasins?” Eugenie asked, examining the tiny buckskin shoes as she held the baby on her lap. She and Giles had arrived two days ago, and Eleanor was now four weeks old. Eugenie was smitten, and even Giles was charmed, but nowhere near the level of the high-pitched cooing and coddling that Eugenie bestowed on the baby, making Chingachgook’s attentions look tame in comparison.

            “It is to show any ghosts who might wish to try to take her spirit away with them that she has holes in her moccasins and therefore cannot travel to the spirit world.” Kanshiopán answered from the kitchen.

            Eugenie nodded. “Well…that is an interesting…custom. All right, then.”

            “There are several things that the Lenape do to protect newborn babies, like the buckskin at her wrists.” Cora appreciated Eugenie trying to accept the things that she clearly thought very strange about Delaware and Mohican culture, however, she had refrained from telling her cousin about other things, such as burying the umbilical cord near the house so that the girl would grow to remember and embrace her roles and responsibilities as a woman. She thought that might be a bit much for Eugenie to take.

            “She is such a quiet, observant little thing, isn’t she?” Eugenie cooed, beaming down at Eleanor.

            “She really is,” Cora replied with a smile. She was very much the way Alice had been as a baby, alert with her big, intelligent eyes taking in the world. “She’s not been one to fuss much at all, and the rare times that she does, Nathaniel can almost always calm her. He has this way of rocking her that settles her quite well, and try as I might I cannot seem to work the same magic on her.”

            “You are so lucky! Philip and David were both prone to squalling day and night, and David had terrible colic. Even with the help of nursemaids, it was difficult. But oh, even that I missed later when they were grown. And you are such a beautiful girl! Oh my, you most certainly are!”

            “Fortunate that she takes after Cora and not her father.” Giles chortled, thumping Nathaniel on the shoulder. Cora rolled her eyes at Nathaniel, who just laughed and thumped Giles back, perhaps slightly harder than necessary, before taking Eleanor back from Eugenie when she began to make fussing sounds.

            “She must be hungry again.” He smiled as the baby turned her head, rooting and making pecking motions against his chest. “Patience, _ntan’tis_ , you won’t get what you want from me,” he chuckled, giving her over to Cora to nurse. When she had finished and fallen asleep, Nathaniel took her while Cora went to help Kanshiopán with supper in the kitchen.

            “Can someone bring in more firewood, please?” Cora asked.

            “I’ll get it,” Nathaniel replied. “Here, Giles, take Eleanor for a bit.”

            “Oh, no, I don’t…I can’t - ”

            “Of course you can! Here, just hold her against your shoulder like this…that’s it. Now support her underneath with your arm. There. See? You’ll do just fine.” Nathaniel patted him and went outside for the wood, while Chingachgook stood behind Giles with silent laughter sparkling in his eyes.

            “I’m going to have to keep an eye out for animals near the house,” Nathaniel said when he came back in, depositing the firewood on the iron rack by the hearth and adding some to the fire.

            “What happened?” Cora asked, her skirt brushing his leg as she stirred the contents of the kettle on the pot-hanger.

            “Something got into the woodpile, there was firewood scattered all over the porch. I thought I heard something earlier, I should have checked then.”

            “Raccoons, perhaps?”

            “Could be. I’ll have to - ”

            “ _DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN!_ ” Giles exclaimed from across the room. Cora’s wooden spoon clattered to the floor as she and Nathaniel ran to see what was wrong, Kanshiopán close behind them. Giles still held an oblivious, sleeping Eleanor, his face frozen in horror at the mushy yellow mess running from beneath the baby’s flannel gown over the sleeve of his pristine white shirt. Eugenie looked as if she didn’t know what to do or say, her mouth silently opening and closing. Chingachgook looked like he wanted to laugh out loud, but was too dignified to do so. Kanshiopán’s mouth twitched madly as she pressed her lips together.

            “Oh, dear,” Cora said. “It would seem Eleanor needs a clout change.”

            Nathaniel guffawed. “Don’t worry, Giles, it’s happened more than once.” He gingerly took his daughter, now awake and fussing, from the sputtering and currently very undignified Giles. “What goes in will nearly always come out in short order.”

            He grinned impishly as he left to the bedroom with Cora to deal with the unpleasant mess. Once it was taken care of and Eleanor was settled back to sleep and lying on the bed, they stared down at her in disbelief.

            “I will never understand how something so small can make so much of something so awful,” Nathaniel said softly. Cora began to titter, and within seconds they were both sobbing with laughter.

            “We shouldn’t laugh, one of us will surely be next,” she gasped, leaning against him and wiping her eyes.

            “Doesn’t matter. This was worth any future punishment. His face…”

            “Well…I won’t deny that he might have deserved it just a little.”

 

* * *

  

_April 21, 1759_

            “I can’t believe it is already nearly planting time again,” Cora said, looking around at the moonlit landscape grown green with the thaw and the coming of spring.

            “Time seems to pass three times as quick when we’re so busy…and happy,” Nathaniel replied, taking her hand in his as they walked. Eleanor was asleep in Chingachgook’s lap on the cabin porch with Kanshiopán sitting beside him doing quillwork on a pair of moccasins by lantern light. Nathaniel and Cora had thus taken a rare and welcome opportunity to go for an evening walk alone together, just along the stream and around the farm.

            “It truly does. Eleanor certainly keeps us running, too. Thank goodness for cradleboards and Sarah’s cloth wrap, or I would never get a thing done around here.”

            “You get plenty done, _ndah_ , and you are an outstanding mother.” He lifted her hand and pressed it to his lips.

            “Kanshiopán is a godsend as well, I can’t begin to know where I would have ended up without her here. I am so very happy that she decided to stay. She’s become a part of our family, and I would be very sorry for her to leave us.”

            “As would I, and I know my father would be more than sorry. I don’t think this is what they intended in the beginning, but things don’t always go according to plan, and I’m pleased for them. They are happy together, and I rather like her.” He smiled and looked toward the distant figures sitting on the porch. They had told Nathaniel and Cora a few days ago that Kanshiopán had agreed to be Chingachgook’s wife, and that she would be staying indefinitely. Neither of them were particularly surprised at this news, but it was wonderful to hear nonetheless. After planting was done it would be time for Nathaniel and Chingachgook to go to Albany to trade the winter’s pelts. Afterward, Chingachgook planned to travel south with Kanshiopán to visit the Lenape village, and hopefully Máxkwikee and his family might be able to visit them at the farm again in the summer.

            They walked quietly for a while, and when they came up behind the barn, Nathaniel tugged Cora’s hand gently, pulling her into the dark shadow of the back wall. One of the horses whickered softly from inside at their approach.

            “What are you doing?” she whispered as he closed the distance between them, pressing her back against the wall.

            “Well, it has just occurred to me that I have yet to kiss you behind the barn,” he replied, his low, silky tone and his hands spanning her waist making Cora’s skin tingle and grow warm. These early months of parenthood often left them too occupied or exhausted to allow many stolen moments like this. Now that the initial chaos was beginning to settle, Cora had found herself missing them very much, and clearly Nathaniel had as well.

            “I see. Then it would be remiss indeed if you did not rectify that.” Her lips curved in a mischievous smile, her arms winding around his neck.

            He grinned wolfishly and lowered his head, his mouth covering hers in a slow, heated claim that instantly rekindled the neglected fire between them. They both took their time about it, relishing each gasp, each soft sound of pleasure, each languorous caress of lips and roaming hands. She sighed as he eventually tapered off, raining gentle kisses over her face and neck while she returned the same. No matter what else changed around them, it seemed that loving one another never did. A touch, a kiss, a softly murmured endearment could still incite the blooming flush of desire as easily as the very first time, and perhaps even more so now, after life together had anchored each of them so firmly in the heart and soul of the other.

            Afterward, they left the cover of the barn, both smiling broadly, and walked back to the cabin. Chingachgook and Kanshiopán bid them good night and retired indoors. Nathaniel and Cora stayed on the porch standing side by side at the railing, Cora holding a peacefully sleeping Eleanor cradled in her arms. The air was alive with the lulling sounds of the night, still but not silent. Crickets chirped in the grass, and the croaking of frogs emerging from their muddy homes could be heard from the banks of the stream down below. The trees in the forest stood like tall, shadowy sentinels against the blue-black sky peppered with the light of the stars and the silvery light of a waxing moon. Somewhere in their depths, an owl hooted, and another answered from a distance. Nathaniel slid his arms around Cora’s shoulders, holding her and his daughter close to him, awash with overwhelming love and gratitude for them both, and for everything that had come bursting forth green with new life from their darkest hours. He and Cora and Chingachgook had come to a restless peace with knowing they would never be able to reconcile what they had gained with what they had lost; all they would ever be able to do was be thankful that they had risen from it as they had. Cora had had the courage and fortitude to let go of everything she had known before to pull this life from the ashes with him, and they had forged a home and a family that was a constant source of love, learning, and strength – something not even he or his father had ever expected or hoped for.

            Looking down at their tiny daughter asleep in Cora’s arms, he stroked her downy head, and in a hushed voice began to tell her the story he had told Cora their first night beneath the stars. How the mother of the sun and moon had died at their birth, so the sun had given her body to the earth to bring it life, and the moon had drawn the stars from her breast and thrown them into the sky to remind him of her soul. When he had finished, Cora gazed up at him, her dark eyes glittering.

            “So shines a light in the dark,” she whispered. “I began to love you then because you told me that story and made something heartbreaking into something beautiful and full of hope, and I couldn’t have known then how much that would mean to me all this time. This life has not been easy, but you make it beautiful to me, just as you always have. I have never for a moment wished to be anywhere else but with you.”

            “Nor have I, _ndah_. I can no longer imagine a life without you, or all those who we share it with. We are a family now, every one of us. You and I, and Eleanor…our shining light.”

            She sighed into him as he kissed her softly. Listening to the sounds of life around them, he remembered what Uncas had said to him just before he had faded away from the in-between place where they had spoken. _I will not see you this way again, but know that we are all around you. In the stars, in the forest, on the wind, in all the places we have walked and breathed._ And they were there, just as everyone who had come before them was. Just as the Camerons were. All of them, their monument scattered across the night sky, shining down on the earth to remind them that once, they had been here.

 

_“Can't you see that all I wished for_   
_was you for better and for worse_   
_and to hear you say how much you love me_   
_forever on this piece of earth.”_

_-West of Eden-_

 

* * *

 

 **_Epilogue_** ****

_“So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten_

_Sons are like birds flying upwards over the mountain…_

_So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten_

_Sons can be birds taken broken up the mountain…_

_So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten_

_Sons are like birds flying always over the mountain.”_

_-Samuel Ervin Beam-_

_June 1765_  

            “I’m going to catch you, Conor!” Maggie MacKay called out, running along slowly at the pace of the giggling dark-haired toddler making his way up the rise on chubby little deerskin-clad legs.

            “No she won’t, I’ve got you!” Eleanor yelled, scooping up her squealing little brother and running with him to where Chingachgook stood smiling. “ _Machom_ , will you tell us a story?” she grinned up at him, depositing her brother at his feet, who immediately attached himself to their grandfather’s leg. Chingachgook sat down on the grass and they both climbed into his lap as he began to tell them one of the many tales they loved to hear. Maggie went into the cabin with Ruth Winthrop, summoned by Sarah and Abigail. Ian and Jack sat on the porch smoking their pipes, and Aidan and Jeremiah were down near the barn playing at lacrosse. The three families had begun gathering together this way after planting was finished several years ago, and it had since become a yearly habit. Soon they would also enjoy a summer visit from Máxkwikee and Wëlàhëne, who now had a boy and a little girl in addition to Chëmamtët. Unfortunately, Alasdair and Rebekah were not present today; Alasdair had taken an apprenticeship with a blacksmith at eighteen, and was now working on his own in Albany, where Rebekah was teaching school. They had been married the previous October, and were expecting their first baby in August. Nathaniel and Cora made sure to see them and Mr. Phelps whenever they took the children to Albany to visit Giles and Eugenie.

            At six, Eleanor Aileas was as wild and precocious as her mother had been, as quick-witted as her father, and as intelligent and observant as both her Uncle Uncas and her Aunt Alice. She had a mass of long, dark wavy hair that always seemed to be full of leaves and pine needles. Her features largely favored Cora, but she had Nathaniel’s radiant smile and the same arresting green eyes, with a slightly more prominent burst of gold in the center. She was already showing an interest in medicine, which Cora joyfully fostered along with _Uma_ Kanshiopán, who loved to take her along and teach her all about medicines and herbs. At the age of three she had been given the name _Èkòsëne_ , or _Sun-Shining-Through-the-Clouds_ , just as her English name meant _shining light_ , and just as she had always been that very thing to all of them, especially her father. Nathaniel loved both their children equally, but it was plain that Eleanor held his heart in her hands just as firmly as Cora always had.

            Conor Todd had arrived in the late spring of 1763, after a long, difficult winter. He had been born several weeks too early, but he had come into the world determined to remain in it, stronger than he looked and breathing well enough to scream his intent aloud. For this they had named him Conor, which meant _strong-willed_ , and Todd, the Scots Gaelic word for _Fox_. Now two years old, he lived up to both of his names daily, full of mischief and at the same time always watching the world like his namesake and like his sister, who adored him. Chingachgook said he was the spitting image of Nathaniel when he had been adopted at similar age, except for his brown eyes, which came from Cora. His, however, were a different shade, the rich coppery color of whiskey like Cora’s mother’s had been.  

            In the gloaming of the fading summer day, Cora and Nathaniel stood hand in hand by the hawthorn tree, taking in all that was good before them. Fireflies were beginning to make their appearance, their flashes among the trees like floating starlight in the warm air. Above them, the mated pair of ravens who had made their roost in the hawthorn tree settled in for the evening and tended the hatchlings in their nest with all manner of peculiar, throaty sounds. The hawthorn itself Cora had made into a wish-tree, the way hawthorns were often done in Scotland, and the way she and Alice had done the one at Auchinbowie that Eveline Munro had loved to sit beneath. Traditionally, trinkets, ribbons, and coins were tied to or stuck into the trunk of a wish tree in hope for something wonderful to happen, the item left on the tree to commemorate that wish.

            In August of 1760, the year the fighting of the war had ceased on the continent, Cora had taken all the motley little items gifted to her by her ravens and either tied them among the branches or pinned them to the trunk. Every year after, she added what had been left since the last anniversary. The trunk was a display of odd little things - beads and metal, and the British uniform button from the raven at George Munro’s grave. Bits of frayed cloth were tied around branches, one a strip of faded blue silk from the ruined dress Cora had been wearing the day she’d met Nathaniel; the same he had taken pieces of for loading patches at Fort William Henry. Cora had been in tears over it when Nathaniel had tied it there the first year, saying only that he had wished for her and his wish had been granted when she had stayed with him. Everything on that tree held the wishes for their life and their family, all the memories of what they had lost and the hope they had for what came after, including the hope for peace for all the people sharing a life here together.

            When the dusk began to fade away, Nathaniel and Cora left the gnarled tree with its bowing trunk and reaching branches. The last calls of the nesting ravens followed them across the grass as their children ran into their waiting arms, and they returned to the company of their family and friends. Nothing came too easily in this life they all made here, but they loved what they worked hard for, and they had each other to remind them that love and hope would remain constant no matter what else occurred.

 

_“I thought of her as the wishing tree that died_   
_And saw it lifted, root and branch, to heaven,_   
_Trailing a shower of all that had been driven_   
_Need by need by need into its hale_   
_Sap-wood and bark: coin and pin and nail_   
_Came streaming from it like a comet-tail_   
_New-minted and dissolved. I had a vision_   
_Of an airy branch-head rising through damp cloud,_   
_Of turned-up faces where the tree had stood.”_

_-Seamus Heaney-_

           

* * *

 

**Author’s Note:**

Vocabulary:

 

 _ntan’tis_ : “My little daughter” (Lenape)

 _Machom_ : “Grandfather” (Mohican)

 _Uma_ : “Grandmother” (Lenape)

 

            You guys…this is it. The end. I can’t believe it! I’ve never written anything this long before in my life, and this was such a great experience, and an incredibly emotional journey through a spring full of weird emotional upheaval and loss that really helped contribute to the feelings in this story. I’ve spent so much time and effort and emotion on this that I truly feel like these characters are my good friends. In a way they are – I wrote them a whole life here. Love, marriage, sickness, danger, forging family bonds, hacking life out of the wilderness, and at the end of it all, two beautiful babies.

            So first we have the arrival of Eleanor Aileas. I didn’t do a whole lot from Cora’s POV on that because we all know how babies are born, and I thought it would be more interesting to show what was going on with Nathaniel, who understandably is a little bit of a nervous wreck, and I wanted him to have that man-to-man with Chingachgook because Chingachgook is good at that. The separation and birth issue was an interesting dynamic to write about. Kanshiopán is a very traditional Delaware woman with a specific set of beliefs about this kind of thing, but outside of the village on a frontier farm, things just can’t work that way, even though this is also the practice that Chingachgook and Nathaniel would normally be subject to in their culture. Women were also separated from the village when menstruating. When there is a whole village to take over your normal duties, this can work, but when you’re one of two women in the same house with two men in an isolated location, not so much. A separate room is about all they could manage here. I also had to consider that Cora was not raised with these traditions, so childbirth to her is a different ballgame (by the 18th century it was relatively common for a husband to be present for the birth of a baby). Cultural norms aside, between her and Nathaniel specifically, and the way their characters are with each other, I couldn’t imagine that she wouldn’t want Nathaniel’s company for at least a little while during labor. Neither could I imagine him not freaking out a little bit and despite how he was raised, wanting to be with Cora and comfort her.

            As for the actual baby, I’ve been planning her for a long time. Nathaniel might be next in line behind Chingachgook for 18th Century Dad of the Year Award, because that little girl clearly had him wrapped around her finger from the second she was born. I sense that Killdeer will have an additional role in the future as “Defender of Hawkeye’s Daughter”. I went through names for her like I was naming my own kid, it was crazy (NVMF, I want to know what name you had a secret wish for!!!!). I kept thinking about Chapter 2 when Nathaniel announced they were going to be married right after they got to the MacKays’, and Sarah said “so shines a light in the dark”. This whole story has kind of been about light shining in dark places - stars and hope alike - so when I saw that Eleanor meant ‘shining light’, I knew that was Baby Poe’s name. I went through the same naming process for their son, even though he only appears in the epilogue, because I wanted to make sure these kids had names I loved enough to stick with in case I ever decide to give them their own stories. In addition to the customs mentioned in the text to keep the baby’s spirit from being lured away from earthly life after birth, the Mohican and Delaware really did wait till age three to name their kids, at least at this time in history. It was so common for children to die early that I would imagine they waited partially because a dead person’s name couldn’t be used again, so until they were more certain the child would survive to hold the name, they did not give a formal one. I wanted each Poe child to have a first name that belonged to them but meant something personal to Nathaniel and Cora, and a middle name that reflected something of Uncas or Alice without directly having either of their names. Since none of the girls’ names that mean “raven” seemed to fit Eleanor, I chose Aileas (pronounced Ay-lish) instead, because it suited her and is a Scots name that ties her to Cora and Alice’s heritage. Conor Todd was a little easier, since Todd is a perfect Scottish name that simply means “Fox”, just like Uncas.          

            Speaking of those two, they seemed pretty keen on hanging around for their new niece. I wonder who got into the woodpile? Maybe you’ll find out sometime soon via another one-shot whether that was really a raccoon…? Giles also had the ultimate revenge exacted on him in that scene via a baby diaper blowout (back then a diaper was called a clout and usually was covered by an extra layer called a pilcher). Anyone with kids knows the occasional massive poo blowout is a very real and very unavoidable thing (totally happened to my husband), so I thought Giles was the perfect candidate for that lovely little experience. I give thanks to MohawkWoman for first inspiring that fun by telling me to have Eleanor pee on him, and for giving me Nathaniel’s line about how something so small can make so much of something so awful. It may be a completely different century, but I guarantee new parents then had many of the same thoughts and experiences we modern parents do.

            As for the end…Alasdair and Rebekah are busy making their own little family now, Máxkwikee and Wëlàhëne have clearly been busy, and YAY, Kanshiopán stayed and married Chingachgook, and I’m sure he is very happy about that. By now she is a part of their family and I couldn’t imagine her leaving, and I’m glad Chingachgook will take her to visit the village. They need their people too, and this was a time of great upheaval for most of these groups. By the time Revolution broke out, nearly all those Lenape people were forced out of that area, and by then many had already left anyway. The fighting of the French and Indian War on the American continent pretty well ended in 1760 after a string of British victories north of Lake George and in Canada under the command of Jeffery Amherst, and the war as a whole ended in February of 1763 when the Treaty pf Paris was signed – though some of its provisions led to unrest among colonists which partially led to the Revolutionary War later. And the wishing tree…that was the entire reason for that hawthorn tree being on the farm. For many, many years now I have loved Seamus Heaney’s poem “The Wishing Tree”, and I came across it again after my late friend’s mother died in March. I couldn’t stop thinking about the first line – _I thought of her as the wishing tree that died” –_ and it always made me think of Alice, and so the wish tree was contrived.

            That’s it, folks. Aaaaand I’m crying because it’s really over and I’m going to miss this story. Thank you from the bottom of my heart to MohawkWoman for all your help, humor, and suggestions, BlueSaffire for much of the same, to my husband for his immense support and encouragement in helping me do research, being my beta reader and putting up with six months of me writing and obsessing over what we have coined “Colonial Bullshit”. Lastly, I give my deepest gratitude to every one of you who has followed and read this story, and to those who have left reviews. I truly love to know what you think when you read this, whether you love it or hate it, and I love when your questions or suggestions have helped me along the way. This fandom is fucking awesome, and I’m so glad I decided to do this. There WILL be more. Keep your eye out for the next story coming soon, where Uncas and Alice are alive and well to engage in all kinds of shenanigans alongside Nathaniel and Cora!


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